Valpariso Road
by MaverickLover2
Summary: Where in the world is Las Cruces? Why was Bart stopping there? And what effect was it going to have on his life?
1. Prologue

Valpariso Road

Prologue

When I first rode into Las Cruces, New Mexico, I wasn't quite sure what kind of a town I was riding into. The city itself had been Spanish and then Mexican before it was claimed by the Republic of Texas. When The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed in 1848, the United States officially took over the territory, and Las Cruces was laid out as a settlement in 1849 by the U.S. Army. Not that the Army did much to establish a town; the hamlet of Mesilla had more people than the dry, dusty little village known as 'the crosses.' But ride in I did, and I had no idea the effect the area and its people would have on me.

The last couple of years had been particularly hard on the Maverick family. Pappy caught pneumonia for the second time in eighteen months, although the succeeding bout wasn't as bad as the first one; Uncle Ben had broken his leg when his horse fell and rolled over on him; Cousin Beau was still grieving the loss of his wife, Georgia, to the fever; Brother Bret, well Brother Bret had lost the girl he loved to one of his oldest friends and then been arrested and incarcerated in a case of mistaken identity. And me? Well, believe it or not, I had escaped relatively unharmed. I figured I was probably overdue for some bad luck, so I got outta town as fast as I could and told Bret I'd catch up with him later.

I was thinking of riding on to El Paso when I stopped to water my horse in Las Cruces. Noble wasn't the only one that was thirsty, and by the time I'd had coffee and supper there was no sense in riding on into the dusk, so I found a reasonable looking hotel and got a room. According to the Señorita at the cantina, the best poker game in town took place at the very hotel I was spending the night in. So I, of course, had to go see just what kind of poker players lived and played in Las Cruces.

Some fascinating ones, I found out. And some very well-heeled ones. It sure wasn't what I anticipated; I thought all the money in the area was in El Paso. As I sat down to play what was to turn into one of the more interesting poker games of my life, I wasn't really expecting too much. Just goes to show you . . . never underestimate the value of a deck of cards.

Introductions were made all around – on my left was 'Wild' Billy Sunday, as I later discovered, the wealthiest man in the entire town. Billy was fiftyish, with curly gray hair (and plenty of it) and a magnificent mustache. Everybody called him Wild Billy from the days when he was younger and wore his hair a lot longer – and it always looked like he'd just been scared to death. Even with age and a shorter hairdo, there was plenty about Billy that was still wild.

Next to Billy was Aiden Carmichael, a much more reserved and quiet man of about the same age. Aiden had made a fortune in Louisiana land speculation and was forced to find a drier climate when he developed a rasping cough that tried to kill him whenever it could. Tall and thin, dark-haired, elegant and sophisticated as Billy was wild, Aiden was Billy Sunday's best friend.

Miguel Campos was the de facto Mayor of the town. The Campos family had lived in or around the Las Cruces area for generations, and Miguel didn't care whether the land belonged to Mexico, Texas, or the United States, as long as his land was his land. Miguel spoke English as well as he spoke Spanish, and he'd never met a man he didn't like. Big and ruddy skinned, Miguel was a learned man in a farmer's body.

To Miguel's left was LeClaire Frazier, Lee as his friends and everyone else in town called him. Lee wasn't small in stature, but he was refined, classically educated by one of the last remaining wealthy Créole clans in western New Orleans. He'd come to Las Cruces as a younger man to marry a Spanish noblewoman's daughter. He and Imelda had raised a family of seven, and when his beloved wife died, he remained in her hometown rather than return to his own. As Lee put it, "Too humid in Nawlens."

Last but not least, to my immediate right sat Sheriff Hamilton Rose, reputed to be one of the finest poker players in the entire territory. Hamilton (no one dared called him Ham) was a good-sized man and strong as an ox. He kept the town on the straight and narrow with his steely-eyed gaze and a voice that reverberated authority. He was also the cleanest, neatest looking sheriff I'd ever met.

All-in-all, it seemed like a good group. No mean-spirited, bad-tempered poker players. No drunken cowboys, nobody that would insist I must cheat because I played too well not to. No one that would threaten to kill you when they caught a bad draw of cards. For once I was playing the game I loved with a group of men that knew how to win and yes, how to lose. This might turn into a pleasant little evening, a nice change from some of the nights I've taken my life in my hands just by sitting down at the table. I had no idea what was to come from one night of poker, but the stage was set.


	2. The First Night

Chapter 1 – The First Night

It wasn't long before I learned just how well this group of men played. I had to stay alert and pay close attention at all times, but slowly I discovered their little ticks and quirks. Everybody's got 'em – the only difference is the professional knows how to hide 'em. This bunch was pretty good at it, for a group of non-professionals, but each did something small and almost indiscernible that tipped me off to where they stood on a particular hand.

I started winning, and I kept winning. They knew I played honestly – they were all good enough to have figured it out if I was cheating. It was friendly, and it was enjoyable, and it was productive. At least it was for me. We talked, we laughed, we played game after game and got to know each other the way you do when you've spent all night at the same table and watched the sun rise through the east window. I didn't win all the hands, but I won more than my fair share.

I was pleasantly surprised when Wild Billy leaned over and asked, "You stayin' in town, boy?"

"Upstairs," I answered.

"You be out at my house at seven o'clock for supper. Aiden and Lee'll be there. And the man that wasn't here tonight, Hank Manchester. Then you join us here for poker at nine. Alright with you?"

I hesitated for only a minute. "I was goin' on to El Paso today, but I don't think it'll miss me. Sure, I'd be pleased to come. Where's your spread?"

There was a round of laughter from the table, and it wasn't until later that night that I understood why. "That's the right name for it, that's for sure. Spread. Out on Valpariso Road. I'm the only place out there. It's the road west out of town. Oh, and be warned, I've got a twenty-two-year-old daughter named Evelyn – Evy for short, don't call here Evie – with the most beautiful face and the worst temper you've ever met in your whole life. And I'm not kiddin' about either."

"Especially the temper," Lee added.

No laughter this time, just a solemn bunch of men all nodding their heads. "But she sure is pretty," Miguel added, and another round of head-nodding took place.

"I'll be there," I affirmed. "Someplace in this town to get breakfast?"

"Yeah, come on with us," Billy insisted. "We all go down to Sugars for breakfast. She's open by now."

"And won't she be surprised, to see we brought somebody younger than Methuselah with us for once?" Lee asked.

"Won't she be surprised that we know somebody younger than Methuselah?" That was the first time Aiden had said anything not related to poker in several hours.

"C'mon, son, I'm buyin'," and Wild Billy Sunday slapped me on the back as we got up from the table. "Barney, same time tomorrow," he called to the bartender. Of course there was a bar in the poker room at the hotel. And a bartender named Barney.

I wouldn't have believed that Las Cruces was big enough to have a cantina, much less a cantina and a café, but it did. Sugar's was twice as big as the cantina, and a quick look around explained why. The café was packed, with every manner of man in there having breakfast. Or whatever they wanted to call it.

All the way in the back we went, to a table marked 'Reserved.' Billy took a chair and sat down, and I, along with everyone else, followed suit. It wasn't a full minute before the prettiest brunette waitress showed up at the table with a full coffee pot.

"Good morning, gents!" she called, awfully chipper for this early in the morning. She poured coffee all around and gave me the once over when she got to my cup. "Well, well, well. What have you brought me this morning? Are you real?" she asked as she poked me in the shoulder.

"Ouch!" I responded.

"Yep. Real alright. You wait right here. I'm goin' to get Sugar."

"Did I grow another head?" I asked humorously.

"Wait until Sugar gets here," Lee warned me.

And then the lady herself appeared. There was absolutely no mistaking Sugar for anyone else in the world. Dressed in pink from head to toe, her red hair in the longest braid down her back I have ever seen, she walked just like I imagined a queen would walk. She had the brightest smile and bluebird-blue eyes. She walked right over to me and rested her hand on my shoulder. I rewarded her with the biggest grin I could manage. "Yep, Jancy wasn't lyin' to me. You're real. Wherever did you come from and will you marry me?" Then she bent down while everyone at the table laughed and gave me the longest kiss you could imagine.

When she finally pulled away and straightened up, I cleared my throat. "Remind me to come back here often," I remarked.

"Handsome, you can just live here if you'd like." Her hand still resting on my shoulder, she turned to Billy. "Alright, Billy Sunday, you're forgiven for anything you've done in the last ten years." That brought more laughter, including from me. Finally she moved her hand and looked back down at me. "I hope we haven't embarrassed you, Mister . . . ?"

"Maverick," I told her. "Bart Maverick. No, ma'am, you certainly haven't. This bunch I'm not so certain about."

"Jancy, come back here and take their order. And this one," she gestured to me, "is on the house. For bein' a good sport."

"And good lookin'," Jancy added. "What would you like, Mr. Maverick?"

Jancy took the orders all around and then retrieved the coffee pot. "Gonna hafta keep an eye on you, I see," she told me. I'd already finished the first cup of coffee she'd poured.

"Yes, ma'am. I drink a lot of it."

The food was good and the service was top-notch. If I stayed in Las Cruces for any length of time I would be coming back here.

When everyone was done with breakfast Sugar came back out to the table. "Dinner at the ranch tonight?" she asked Billy.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered her. "At seven. See you later?"

Sugar nodded and rested her hand on my shoulder once again. "Don't let Evy scare you. She's a lot of bluster. It's her coat of armor."

"I'll remember that," I promised, and removed her hand and kissed it. "Thanks for breakfast."

"Watch out, Billy, you've got competition," Sugar told him. It was evident there was something more than casual friendship going on between the two of them.

I walked back to the hotel; everyone went their separate ways. "Seven o'clock, don't forget," Billy called out, and I nodded. Right now the only thing on my mind was sleep, several hours of it.

I stopped at the hotel desk and told the clerk, "I'll be staying at least tonight, maybe longer. Any problem with that?"

"No, sir, not a one," he answered me, and I took the stairs two at a time to my room. Within ten minutes I was undressed and in bed, and soon after that asleep. No dreams, no nightmares, just sleep. It's so enjoyable when that happens, and I'm always grateful for it.


	3. Chocolate Sunday

Chapter 2 – Chocolate Sunday

Ever notice how the world looks brighter, shinier after you've had a good night's sleep and you've won money? Well, take my word for it, it does. I even got to lie in bed and do nothing for a few minutes without somebody beating on my door or sticking a gun in my face. That was an improvement over normal, let me tell ya.

I got cleaned up, shaved, changed clothes, and went downstairs to the bar in the gaming room. There was a different bartender than last night, but everybody must know Billy Sunday. "Yes, sir," he told me, "Mr. Sunday only drinks Kentucky bourbon."

"Good, I'll take a bottle of that." Bottle in hand, I walked down to the livery and got Noble saddled. I'd gotten directions earlier from the hotel desk clerk, and it really did seem as easy to get there as Billy had made it sound. Double back to the only west-heading road and take it until I came to the ranch. How hard could that be?

It took longer than I expected because Billy Sunday's spread truly was a spread. The ranch must be gigantic, considering how far I had to ride after I went through the gate. It made no difference to my arriving on time, since I'm always early when I go somewhere; particularly someplace I've never been before. Once I could see the buildings I was even more impressed. The barn was as big as two put together, and the ranch house was built on the same scale. I sat at the top of the hill that led down to the house itself and whistled, and that's saying something. What was this man doing living in a little town like Las Cruces?

Obviously I wasn't the last to arrive; there were only two other horses tied up outside. I dusted myself off and went up the steps (three of them) and across the porch to the front door. I knocked and waited; when the door was answered it was by the girl I presumed to be Evy Sunday. She was surprisingly tall, almost my height, and that was a full head taller than her father. I was amazed by how much her eyes looked like Bret's – almost coal black and full of fire. Her hair was the color that Billy's must have been before it turned gray – a dark, rich looking chocolate. She made me think of a taller version of Rose Garrett. Quicker than you could say 'Go away' her expression turned dark and forbidding.

"Oh, you must be the designated suitor. Come in, whatever your name is."

The poker players had warned me about her temper, but they'd said nothing of her sharp tongue. Pappy raised us always to be gentlemen, no matter the challenge, and I tipped my hat to her as I stood in the doorway. "You must be Evy Sunday," I babbled.

"Bright, hmmmm?" was her comeback, and I couldn't help myself.

"Rude, eh?" I answered her, and for just a moment she was speechless. Then she smiled, a big, beautiful smile, real and full of what? Joy? Rancor? Venom? It was hard to tell.

"A brave man, indeed," she shot back, but her tone was much gentler and friendly. "Sorry, I'm so used to my father trying to marry me off that I get, well, defensive."

I chuckled and explained. "Have no fear of that, Miss Sunday. I've not come here to woo you. My name, not that you'll remember it, is Bart Maverick. I played poker with your father's group last night."

She stepped back and held the door open. "My apologies, Mr. Maverick. And I will remember your name. My father's been talking about you ever since he got up this afternoon."

Billy appeared behind Evy. "Sorry, Bart, I warned you, she bites."

"Not hard," I smiled, and handed the bottle to her father. "I understand this is your preferred libation. Thank you for inviting me out here for supper." I held my arm out towards Evy. "Here, Miss Sunday, you're welcome to take another bite."

"Touché, Mr. Maverick. I am suitably chastised. May we start over?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Miss Sunday." I smiled once again – the beast sounded like it was temporarily, at least, sated.

"What would you like to drink, Bart? Coffee, I assume?" Billy asked graciously.

"That would be good, Billy. Thank you." Father looked at daughter and Evy left on a mission to get me coffee.

"I hope you'll forgive Evy. She's right, I have tried to marry her off before. But I promise that wasn't my intent – this time. Come on back to the study. Lee and Sugar are already here."

"I can see where that might make one a bit – testy, shall we say?"

The study was as big as some people's entire houses. There was a desk at the far end, and the walls were covered in bookshelves that were full of books. Right in the middle of the room stood a billiards table, and at the near end a poker table and chairs, which were currently occupied by Lee and Sugar. Billiards was a game I'd been exposed to, but not had much experience with. LeClair picked up the two empty glasses and headed for the bottle on Billy's desk. "Hey, Bart," he called as he walked. Sugar waved me over and Billy followed.

"How'd he do with Miss Evy?" Sugar asked.

"He acquitted himself admirably," Wild Billy answered.

"So when she tried to bite him – "

"He bit right back," Billy laughed. He turned to me as we sat at the poker table. "Sorry about that, son, but the only way she's gonna change is when she gets stepped on enough. She's really a sweet girl, down underneath all that – "

"Armor?" I finished, using Sugar's word from earlier in the day.

"Exactly."

"Is there a reason for the armor?" I asked.

Billy nodded. "Her mother was killed when she was ten years old."

Evy came into the room carrying a large mug full of coffee. "I see you've already heard about my affinity for coffee," I quipped.

"You don't drink?" she asked me, sounding genuinely curious.

"An occasional glass of wine with dinner. Other than that, no."

"Why? If you don't mind my asking."

I shook my head. "Don't mind at all. Most important, I don't like the taste. Or what it does to you when you drink it."

"I thought all gamblers drank." She said it quite matter-of-factly.

"Ah, there's the rub, ya see. I'm not a gambler."

"You're not?"

I'd explained it many times, but this was a new group of people. "I'm a poker player. Very different from a gambler. What I do entails skill and attention."

"No luck?" Evy asked.

"Oh, luck doesn't hurt. But it's not required."

"That's an interesting viewpoint, Mr. Maverick."

"Bart, please. It's the way I make my living, Miss Sunday."

"I'll call you Bart if you'll call me Evy."

"A fair trade. Is there any more coffee out there?" I asked. The mug she'd brought me was already empty.

"Oh goodness. You do inhale it, don't you?" That question was asked with a genuine smile on her face, and Mayor Campos was correct – when Evy Sunday smiled, the room lit up, and she was quite attractive.

"Actually, I just absorb it. My brother Bret insists it's the only thing that keeps me alive."

Sugar's ears perked up, just as the door to the study opened and Aiden Carmichael walked in with a man I hadn't met. He must be the previously missing Hank Manchester. Introductions were made all around and we shook hands. Manchester was closer to my age than anyone else in the poker group, but that was the extent of our similarities. I was tall, he was average height. I was on the thin side, Hank was on the stocky side. He was blonde and blue-eyed, much lighter in coloring than me. He spoke with an accent I couldn't place at first, but the more he talked, the more it sounded like he was from New York. He'd been in El Paso on business, and affirmed that I wasn't missing much in the way of entertainment by staying in Las Cruces. "Is that your gelding out front?" he asked finally.

"You mean the buckskin with the bad attitude? Yep, Noble belongs to me. Literally. Watch out for him, he's the jealous sort," I explained laughingly.

"Fine looking animal. Too bad he's been gelded."

I shrugged. "Maybe he's the lucky one. He was that way when we were first introduced. He doesn't seem to mind."

The group talked for another ten or fifteen minutes before a petite Hispanic form appeared in the doorway. "Señor Billy, supper is ready and waiting."

Sunday stood up and waved everyone out of the room. "The voice of authority, otherwise known as Tenora, has spoken. Ladies and gentlemen, let us go partake of whatever sumptuous repast has been prepared."

I stood and held Evy's chair for her. She quickly looped her arm through mine and looked at me with just a touch of pleading in her eyes and voice. "Please, Bart. I promise I won't bite anymore. I'd much prefer your company to Hank Manchester's."

I thought about something that had happened recently and smiled just a bit. At least I was first in someone's eyes, and I escorted Evy Sunday out of the study and into the dining area of the house.


	4. Rescuing Fair Maidens

Chapter 3 – Rescuing Fair Maidens

By nine o'clock all the men were back at the poker table in the gaming room of the Las Cruces Arms Hotel. Sugar was either home in bed for a quick nap or already at work preparing for the night's business ahead. Evy Sunday was somewhere doing something.

She was a very odd young woman. If she was a man, she would have been a hired gun. That avenue not being available to her, she masqueraded as a bad-tempered, rude-mouthed spoiled brat. Funny, I could see right through the disguise; she was none of those. She had a sweet nature and curiosity about the where's and why's of everyday life in Las Cruces, and a real fear of being controlled – and that meant being married. I didn't seem to be a threat to her independence, since I had no intention of courting or marrying her, and she appeared to feel safe enough to be herself with me. I didn't know whether to be impressed or depressed.

That second night of poker went even better than the first; there was one more of us playing, since Hank Manchester was there, and that completely changed the dynamics of the game. The pots were about the same size as the night before, but for some reason we seemed to play faster, so there was actually more money bet and won/lost. My winning ways continued, and this evening was even more enjoyable than the first night had been. Hank had a wicked sense of humor and was more than willing to display it, whether he was winning or losing. I'm not sure I ever laughed more during a night of poker. Towards morning I began to wonder if I'd lost my sanity or my life and just didn't know it – I was having too good a time for this to be reality.

Fortunately, once we went back to Sugar's for breakfast, the usual balance of everyday existence in the west was restored. A drunk wouldn't leave Jancy alone, even after she'd told him to do so several times, and when he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap I was the closest to the attempted mauling. Five minutes later I had a rapidly bruising black eye, but Jancy was free of the clod and he was out cold. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," Aiden commented, "and a gentleman to boot."

"One of my great failings in life," I answered, as Jancy made a fuss over my 'rescue.' "Another reason why I don't drink."

"He shouldn't, either," the sheriff remarked, as he slapped handcuffs on the unconscious man. "That's gonna cost him."

"Good. Never put your hands on a lady when she's already told you no."

I looked up just in time to see Billy watching me intently. As soon as he realized I'd spotted him he glanced away. _'What was that about?'_ I wondered. I was quickly distracted by Jancy, who looked at me and announced, "Breakfast is on me, handsome. And thanks for the help."

"You're welcome, Jancy. Anytime."

"You stayin' another day?" Miguel asked.

"Don't see why not," I responded. "I'm havin' too much fun to leave now."

"Then we'll see you at nine tonight," Lee told me as he slapped me on the back. He and Aiden walked out with Billy, their heads put together like they were planning a revolution.

"Hey, Bart, help me get this idiot up and off the floor, would you?" Hamilton asked, and I was happy to oblige.

"You really gonna throw him in jail?" I questioned as we half walked, half dragged him through the café and out the door.

"Sure am. And it's gonna cost him a twenty-five dollar fine, too. Three days for drunk-in-public and assault."

I chuckled. "At least Jancy'll have three days of peace."

"You wanna file a formal complaint?"

I shook my head. "Naw, three days is enough to teach him a lesson." When we got him to the jail I let Hamilton take him the rest of the way in. I get too close to a jail, it's liable to smell fear on me and decide I belong inside it. Can't be too careful around jails, they're vengeful beasts.

I walked back to the hotel and stopped again at the front desk. "Staying another night, Mr. Maverick?" the desk clerk asked.

"Yep," I responded. "Might as well figure I'm here for the rest of the week."

"No problem. Pleasure to have you with us."

I was beginning to feel like I'd walked into 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' by Lewis Carroll. Men that could afford to lose at poker and had a good time while doing it, me on a winning streak, a beautiful girl that didn't want to get married, good food, a comfortable bed, and people that seemed to like me. Something was wrong with this picture but I'd be darned if I could figure out just what it was. Once more I got undressed and got into bed, and slept another peaceful, dreamless sleep. What had I stumbled into?

XXXXXXXX

I woke up in plenty of time to go out and spend some time with my eccentric gelding. Feeling guilty for not having been around yesterday, I spent the majority of the afternoon grooming him and giving him a good rubdown. Yes, I know he's probably spoiled, but he's saved my life on more than one occasion, and he deserves to be taken care of. When I was finished I promised him a ride tomorrow and headed back to the hotel. I had plenty of time to get ready for both supper and poker, and wandered on down to the cantina for some more of the fantastic food they served. I was surprised to find Evy Sunday sitting by herself, waiting for her supper, and she smiled when I came in and motioned for me to join her, so I did.

"What are you doin' here, with Tenora to cook for you at home?" I asked.

"Tenora went to Ciudad Juarez to visit her family," Evy told me. "Dad always sends her off on a trip after he has people over for dinner. It's his way of saying 'thank you' for all the hard work she does."

"Your father takes care of people, doesn't he?" I asked her as soon as I'd ordered.

"The ones that are important to him."

"Seems like everybody he knows is important to him."

"Just about. Dad's always had lots of friends."

"And you?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "You heard me yesterday. Would you want to be friends with me?"

I avoided giving her a direct answer. "You're a beautiful girl, Evy. You should have a lot of friends."

She looked at me and laughed. "Quite the gentleman, aren't you? I wouldn't want to be friends with me, either."

"I didn't say that." And then an idea hit me. "I'm taking Noble out to stretch his legs tomorrow. Why don't you go with me?"

Evy watched me for just a minute, as if deciding whether to trust me or not. I'd asked it so casually, so off-hand, that she didn't seem to see any harm in it. "Alright. I will. What time and where?"

"I'll come by the ranch to get you at three o'clock. We can go from there." Why had I asked Evy Sunday to go riding with me? Maybe I felt sorry for her; maybe I just wanted company. I'm still not sure. But I had asked her, and she'd agreed, so riding we were going. At least Noble would get some enjoyment and some exercise out of it. What would Evy get out of it? Maybe a chance to spend time with a man that didn't want to marry her and tie her down. An opportunity to have fun for fun's sake. And me? What would I get out of it? Why, the chance to spend the afternoon with a beautiful girl. Why would any man turn that down?


	5. Problem Solving

Chapter 4 – Problem Solving

I was early, as usual. I was surprised to find that Evy was early, too. It was a pleasant surprise.

She wanted to show me the ranch, and I had no objection to that. I didn't realize how intimidating it could be – to think that the man that owned half of the New Mexico territory, the father of the woman riding beside me, was on the short list of people that I really and truly liked. Wild Billy Sunday was kind, generous, thoughtful, and loved by almost everyone that met him. Me included. Funny, he reminded me of my brother Bret more than anyone. Although I have to say Bret has better hair.

We rode for a long time and didn't see one-third of the WB Sunday Ranch. Evy might not be a people person, but she was a horsewoman of the first order. Gentle and sure with her mare, she was a pleasure to ride with. Actually, she'd been a pleasure to spend time with after our first sparring match. Maybe once she realized I wasn't there to hog-tie and brand her she turned into the Evelyn Sunday that hid under the brash, short-tempered Evy.

There was one spot on the ranch that made me think of the Maverick family graveyard in Little Bend. A small grove of Desert Willow trees grew at the very bottom of a gentle slope, and we rode into them; I reigned Noble in for a minute and he came to stand right under one, the way he did on our hill in Texas. Evy must have caught a look on my face; maybe it was the simple act of stopping that brought her to a halt beside me. After a time she asked, "Remind you of something?"

"The family graveyard in Texas."

"Who's buried there?"

"Aunt Abby. And Momma."

"How long has she been dead?"

"Too long. Over twenty years."

I could hear her suck in her breath in surprise. "How old were you when she died?"

"Five. My brother was seven."

"What happened?"

It took me just a minute. It always did when I thought about Momma. "We both caught the fever from one of the ladies she visited. I caught everything. I got well; Momma didn't."

"Your father?"

"He raised us. He's a poker player, too. Whole damn family plays poker. Pappy worked nights and slept while we were at school. When I needed somethin', I went to my brother." I chuckled a little at the thought. "It used to irritate Bret when I called him Pappy."

She watched me intently and then asked softly, "Does it still?"

"Not anymore," I shook my head as I answered her. "He knows how I mean it."

"What does he call you? Besides Bart, I mean."

"Either little brother or son."

"And your father?"

"Pappy's still Pappy. Lives in Little Bend with our Uncle Ben. Had pneumonia twice recently. Almost lost him the first time. When I left the last time Ben was laid up with a broken leg. They're old, Evy, and I worry about both of 'em. I should probably be there with 'em instead of runnin' round the country."

"Yet here you are."

"Momma used to call it 'Maverick wanderlust.' Sometimes it's a blessing, sometimes it's a curse. I've stopped in other places before – Bret and I spent some time in Yuma recently – and I thought I was gonna stay in Dry Springs. But somethin' always calls me, and I have to go."

"Dry Springs, New Mexico? Why there?"

"There was somebody there that I – cared about."

"And?"

"And she died. And here I am."

"You've had quite a life in such a short time."

"That's not the half of it. And you didn't come out here to listen to me prattle on about Bart Maverick. You came out here to ride." I'd had enough talk; I nudged Noble and he jumped into a gallop. Evy was beside me in an instant; that little black mare of hers had quite a kick of her own. We raced down the side of the pasture and back around until we came to the remnant of a cattle herd, and I slowed Noble down to a walk. "I thought maybe Billy was just raising grass. I didn't know he actually owned something that grazed on it," I joked to Evy, and she laughed. It was a sweet, wild laugh; one that I hadn't heard before. I glanced up at the sky and realized it was later than I thought, so I told Evy, "We better head back. I have to grab food before I go play poker with your father and the boys."

"Come back to the house with me. Pa cut steaks this mornin' and I promised to cook 'em. I can cook, you know."

"But won't that – "

"Pa cut three." When I gave her a questioning look, she shrugged. "His idea, just in case we rode late. You can go back to town with him."

Now how could I refuse an invitation to a steak dinner? Besides, it would be a pleasant change to talk to Billy without his entourage. "Alright. But you have to let me take you to dinner tomorrow night."

"Are you gonna insist I wear a dress?" she asked me.

"Nope. You can go buck naked if you like, but I don't imagine you'd be too comfortable."

"In that case, I accept. The house is about a mile that way," and she pointed east. "I'll race you."

"You're on," I told her as I again nudged Noble forward. Once I gave him his head I knew she couldn't catch us, even as fast as her mare was. I was just dismounting as she arrived, laughing.

"That's cheating," she told me as she almost jumped down off the mare.

"Nope, that's Noble," and I reached back and gave his ear a rub. "You don't happen to have any apples inside, do you?"

XXXXXXXX

I was right, talking to Billy with only Evy there was a much more sober experience. Sometimes it felt like he was almost performing for everyone around him, the king keeping his court entertained. We talked about a lot of different things; politics, government, law enforcement, literature, cattle ranching, horse racing, poker, of course, and the difficulties of raising a child alone. I might have surprised him, that I seemed so well-read for 'a gambler,' but it appeared to be a pleasant surprise, rather than a startled one.

Evy could indeed cook. She made some kind of a dish with potatoes, the likes of which I'd never tasted before, and the steaks were perfectly done. For once I ate beef the way the cook wanted it, instead of burned to a crisp, and it once again got me to thinking that MAYBE beef could be good without being black. Lord knows how I was going to explain my almost change-of-heart to my brother.

When we were done Billy offered brandy with a cigar, but I had volunteered to help Evy with the dishes. It seemed only fair; she cooked. Her father agreed to wait and helped me dry the dishes that Evy washed. When done, all three of us adjourned to the main room of the house, and Evy joined us in the brandy. I half expected her to smoke a cigar, too, but she didn't. She was still her relaxed and comfortable self, and it was a pleasant hour that we passed before it was time to return to town.

Billy was quieter on the ride back to Las Cruces, almost like he had something weighing on his mind. Once we could see the lights from the little town he seemed to return to normal, and I wondered if he'd been mulling a problem over in his mind and finally made a decision about it. He confirmed that as we dismounted – he stopped me before I walked into the hotel. "Bart, I'd like to talk to you about something after poker and breakfast. Can you spare me some time later, just the two of us?"

I couldn't imagine what he wanted to discuss, but it was all right with me. "Sure, Billy. Somethin' you need help with?"

"In a matter of speaking. It's – "

And that was as far as he got before the door to the hotel opened and Hamilton came rolling out.

"Hey Billy, Bart, you gotta excuse me for a while. Ole' man Fletcher just came in shot in the foot, and Doc's havin' a hard time gettin' a straight story outta him. I'll be back, I hope."

So much for another peaceful night. Billy and I looked at each other; I shrugged, and we went inside to play another night of (fingers crossed) profitable poker.


	6. Crystal Clear

Chapter 5 – Crystal Clear

Poker was a little odd that night. The de facto Mayor, Miguel Campos, got summoned to Doc McMasters right after we started, and that led everyone to believe there was more than just Old Man Fletcher's injury going on. That left us with Hank, Aiden, LeClair, Billy and me. Not a tiny group, but a decidedly more subdued one. Around four a.m. Sheriff Hamilton Rose finally came back to the hotel, and we got the full story.

Marvin Fletcher was an old prospector who'd hit just enough of a gold strike to buy himself a small ranch between Las Cruces and Mesilla, where he raised pigs, goats, chickens, and a few head of cattle. Someone or something had been raiding his chickens for a while, and he was determined to put an end to it. The story also involved a gray wolf, a bobcat, and three deer mice. And a fourteen-year-old neighbor boy with a shotgun.

By the time Hamilton explained it all we were in stitches, and it was decided the best thing to do was call the poker game for the night. I had no objection. At the end of four nights of poker I was ahead by almost fifty-three hundred dollars. Hamilton had to go tend to his newest prisoner (not the fourteen-year-old, Fletcher himself) but Mayor Campos joined us for breakfast. The group still remained oddly subdued; even Jancy was quieter than usual. I could feel some kind of an undercurrent, and I was the only one that didn't know what it was.

As everyone was leaving, Billy once again pulled me aside. "Still got time to talk?" he asked me soberly.

"Sure."

"Can we use your hotel room? I'd like this to be private."

"No problem," I answered, aware of the fact that there must, indeed, be a problem. We went back to the hotel without any further conversation, and straight up to my room. I was glad I had long ago outgrown the habit of dropping dirty clothes on the floor, and had turned into a rather neat and tidy man. You just never knew when you were going to have a relative stranger in your hotel room, and if it was a lady I didn't want her to think me a sloth.

When we got behind closed doors, Billy immediately began Bret's habit of pacing. He waved off sitting down, and I took a chair by the window and waited for him to stand still. It was almost five full minutes before he did.

"I have something to ask you, and this isn't easy for me. I've been lookin' for a long time, Bart, tryin' to find just the right man. Somebody that's not afraid to spar with Evy, somebody with a level head on his shoulders, and a good heart. Somebody that can keep her on the right path while she gets her legs under her. Somebody that won't try to steal everything from her, that'll keep her pointed in the right direction. I'd just about given up hope of finding that man, and then four nights ago you rode into town. Not at all what I expected, but everything I had hoped for. Everything you've said, everything you've done, has been just exactly what I wanted my man to be, and see, and feel. Every time you've made a move, it's been the right one. And to top it all off, you and Evy seem to like each other. You're everything I've wanted, and more."

I was stunned. What was Wild Billy Sunday getting at? Where was this going? And whatever it was, how could I say no? "Billy, I – "

"No, wait, please. Let me finish. This isn't what you're thinkin'. I don't want you to marry Evy, I want you to be her partner. To guide her, and teach her, until she's strong enough to stand on her own. I want you to keep her from doin' somethin' foolish. I want you to keep the wolves away from the door until she can see 'em herself; until she knows what to do when they come around."

"Billy, if you're not talkin' about marriage, what are you talkin' about?" He now had me thoroughly confused.

He finally stopped pacing and stood still. "I'm talkin' about a partner, a guide, a protector, a teacher. She's not ready to run that ranch yet, Bart, and I'm dyin'."

XXXXXXXX

I was speechless. Billy Sunday dying? No, this must be some kind of a prank, a sick joke. I looked at Billy's face, actually examined it, and knew he was telling the truth. I had so many thoughts filling my head, so many questions. And I couldn't ask one of them.

"Well, that's the first time I've gotten total silence as a reaction," Billy finally said. He sat down in the chair opposite me, and waited.

"Are you sure?" That was a stupid question, and I knew it. But they were the only words I could get my mouth to say.

I saw Billy's head nod, and the mournful look in his eyes. "I'm sure. It didn't just happen, it's been comin' on for a while now."

"What is it? Is there anybody that can do anything?" More useless questions, but some I needed answers to.

"It's my heart. Doc says it's just stopped workin' the way it's supposed to. Sometimes it beats too fast, sometimes too slow. I've had it skip and dance around like we was at a barn dance. One a these days it's just gonna quit. Had trouble breathin' lately, and he says that's part of it, too. It's gettin' closer, Bart, I can feel it. I been tryin' to teach her everything I could, but I just know I'm gonna run outta time. She needs somebody like you. Hell, there is nobody like you. She needs you, damnit. I can make it worth your while."

What could I tell this man that I had come to admire and respect in such a short time? He was right, she needed me, or at least somebody like me, and I'm not sure there was anybody quite like me. Under normal circumstances, I would do it in a heartbeat. And yet . . . and yet I hesitated. Why? What was I afraid of? Staying in one place for so long? Hell, I'd been in Silver Creek for a year, at the Stanhope Ranch for nearly as long, and in Sioux Falls for more than five months. No, that wasn't the only reason, and I wasn't quite sure what the others were. I just knew that something inside me was saying 'NO' just as loud as it could. Sitting here with Billy, watching me and waiting so expectantly, I couldn't tell him that, so I did the next best thing. I took the coward's way out and begged for more time before I gave him an answer.

"Billy, I . . . I need some time to think about it. What you're askin' for is a lot. Can ya give me a day or so?"

I'm sure he was disappointed, although he tried hard not to show it. "Sure, Bart, I understand. Just try not to take any longer than that, okay? I honestly don't know how much time is left."

He stood up to leave and headed for the door, then turned back to me. "Everybody knows, by the way. Everybody but Evy. I couldn't tell her. I know I should, but I just can't bring myself to say the words. So if you'd keep quiet about it to my girl – "

"I won't say anything," I promised, quickly following him across the room. "And Billy, no matter what I decide – I'm honored that you asked me."

He nodded and left. I wandered over to the bed and took off my coat and vest, then my gun belt and my boots. I untied my tie and hung it over the chair next to the bed. I'd been ready for sleep before – now I was exhausted and wide awake. "Another fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Maverick," I said out loud.


	7. Sealing the Deal

Chapter 6 – Sealing the Deal

I don't know how long I lay in bed before I finally fell asleep, but I couldn't have slept more than an hour or two before I woke up. All I was sure of was that it was morning, and my skull was pounding.

No, wait, my head hurt alright, but there was pounding at my door, not in my head. "Just a minute!" I yelled, and the pounding stopped. I quickly threw on my pants and shirt and grabbed my gun, then cautiously opened the door. I didn't need the gun; it was Sugar.

"Sorry, handsome, but I need to talk to you, and this is the only time I've got. Can I come in?"

I opened the door and motioned her inside. I would have said something else but my head was still foggy, trying to recover from the lack of sleep and the startling news and proposition that Billy had presented to me. I offered her a seat as I holstered the gun, and Sugar let loose with an ironic laugh. "Cautious man, eh?" she asked, and I nodded in return.

"Been surprised too many times," I finally responded, and she apparently understood. "Billy?"

"Fine. But he's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I figured." It was obvious there was, at the minimum, great affection between Billy and Sugar. Anything else was their business.

"We all knew he was gonna talk to you this morning."

"Sugar, you didn't happen to bring any coffee with you, did ya?" If I was going to have to hold a complete conversation, I desperately needed coffee.

"No, honey, but I can go get you a cup from downstairs. See what you can do about wakin' up and I'll be right back."

Before I had time to say 'don't go' she was out the door. It gave me a chance to put on my boots and grab fresh clothes from the closet. I almost looked like a real boy by the time she got back with two cups and a pot. "Hope you drink it black."

"Is there any other way?" I asked, yawning and rubbing my eyes.

She set the cups on the table and poured them full. We both sat down and I drained half-a-cup before Sugar said anything else. "You didn't give Billy an answer."

I kind of chuckled. "Nope. I asked for time to think it over."

"What is there to think about?"

I'll say one thing for Sugar. She was direct and to the point. "Why does he think I'm the right person for this . . . this whatever you want to call it. Teaching position?"

"He gave you all his reasons, didn't he?"

She was right. Billy had listed all his reasons for asking me to partner with and help educate (to the ways of the world) his daughter. "Yeah."

"What's the problem?"

"Sugar, I'm a gambler, not a school teacher. Or any other kind of teacher, for that matter. I get up and go whenever I feel like it. I don't stay in one place for any extended period of time." Well, that wasn't entirely true, but she didn't need to know it. "Who knows how long this could take? What am I supposed to do with my life in the meantime?"

"What would you do with your life anyway?"

"Play poker and make money."

"Didn't Billy offer to pay you?"

I thought back to earlier that morning. Billy had indeed offered to make it 'worth my while.' I guess that meant pay. But still . . . "I just don't know if I can. It's a huge responsibility."

And then Sugar asked me a question that shook me to my roots and made me stop dead in my tracks. "When was the last time you shirked a responsibility?"

There it was, smack dab in front of me. I had no ready answer for the question. Even when I knew that Samantha had basically tricked me into marrying Caroline, I hadn't run away; I'd never run away from anything in my life. Well, except Sally Jo Wakefield, who was determined to marry me even though I resisted, and Jed and Dickie in Sioux Falls. Why was I considering turning down the dying plea of a man I'd come to like and admire? Once again something was yelling 'NO, NO, NO!' in my head, but I had no reasons to back it up. Maybe it was just fear, or panic, or some other related emotion. That, however, had never stopped me before. There was something just on the edge of my foggy brain – but when I reached for it, it was gone.

"I'll tell you just what I told Billy – I'm thinkin' about it." I'd finished my third cup of coffee while we sat there, and Sugar now looked resigned to my indecision.

"Please, Bart, I'm beggin' you. Please. It would mean so much to him, to know that Evy would be taken care of."

I covered one of her hands that was resting on the table with my own. "He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

She nodded, and for just a moment there was a glistening in her eyes. "I love him. I have since the first time I met him. But that's not the point. I want him to be at peace, to know that Evy will be all right and looked out for, until she's strong enough to handle everything. I want him to enjoy whatever's left to him. Please."

I sighed and let go of her hand. My head was beginning to lose the tug-of-war that was going on between it and my desire to lay Billy's worries to rest. "Alright, Sugar, you've done your best. Make sure everybody else knows to let me get some sleep and I'll ride out to see Billy this afternoon."

She brightened a little and gave me a wan smile. "Does that mean . . . "

"Yeah. It does."

XXXXXXXX

She must have spoken to the rest of Billy's close friends because I did manage to get in four or so hours of sleep. I got up and arranged for a bath; after luxuriating in that, I put on a black shirt and pants and grabbed my buckskin jacket. A few minutes later I was sitting astride Noble, headed for Valpariso Road. I couldn't determine if I'd actually decided to go ahead and help Billy Sunday, or if my senses had just given up from the onslaught that would have been forthcoming after Sugar left.

After I went through the gate to the ranch, I once again marveled at how big this place really was. It wasn't gonna be easy to try to keep it running properly while teaching Evy to handle the day to day tasks. I wasn't aware of how much she already knew and what she needed to learn; for all I knew she might already be capable of managing everything, and Billy was just being cautious. I didn't intend to leave anything to chance; I had a condition that the man was gonna hafta meet before I'd completely agree to his request.

Tenora still wasn't back from her visit to Ciudad Juarez and Evy answered the door. "Bart!" she exclaimed, startled to see me again so soon.

"Is your pa here?" I asked, wanting her to know right away that I was there on business.

"Just got in," she told me as she opened the door wide. "Come on in." She turned towards the study and yelled, "Pa! Bart's here to see you."

Billy came out of the study quickly, a hopeful grin on his face. "Bart! Come on in here," and he motioned me into the room and closed the door behind us. "Have you made a decision?"

"I have, Billy, but there's a condition." He walked back to the poker table and took a seat, indicating that I should do the same.

"What would that be?"

"I've got some questions for you first." He nodded, and I started in with my interrogation – beginning with something as simple as his ranch foreman's name and extending to how much he'd managed to teach Evy up to that point. I peppered him with everything I could think of – how many head of cattle he had, the number of ranch hands he employed, who he did business with, how he got the cattle to market, if he had any partners or owed anyone money, and finally how he intended to make it 'worth my while' to take on the job. He offered a monthly stipend that was considerably more than I averaged playing poker, and a twenty-five percent ownership of the ranch as long as I remained there, with the provision that when it was time to move on I sold my share back to Evy for a fair price. Quite a generous arrangement, I had to admit. Finally I ran out of questions, and we sat for a minute while we both mulled things over. Billy broke the silence by asking, "What's the condition, son?"

I screwed up my courage. "That you call Evy in here right now and tell her the truth about your health."

It was a lot to ask of him, but he never hesitated. "If I do that you'll accept my offer?"

I nodded. "I will."

He got up from his seat and walked back to the door. He opened it and stuck his head out, and I could hear him ask, "Evy, can you come in here, honey?" When she came in he walked her back to the poker table and seated her, then went to his desk and picked up a bottle of bourbon and three glasses, which he brought over to the table.

"What's that for, dad?" she asked as he set the glasses down and poured a shot into each one. He picked one up and drank it straight down, then refilled the glass.

"Evy I've got somethin' to tell you, and I'm sorry I haven't told you before. I've been keepin' somethin' from you, and Bart's gotten me to admit that you need to know. I've had some problems with my breathin' – you know that. You've caught me short of breath more than once. I've always told you it was nothin'. That's . . . not the truth, Evy. It is somethin'. It's a big somethin', as a matter of fact. It's . . . my heart, honey. It's not right."

Evy sat there, composed and unruffled, and held her gaze steady on her father. "What about your heart?"

"It's worn out, honey. It's almost at the end of its run, and one a these days it's just gonna quit."

"Your heart . . . is going to . . . quit?"

He nodded. "It is, Evy. And when it does . . . "

"You'll die." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, said in a calm, clear voice.

"That's right." He reached out then and clasped her hand, just like I'd done to Sugar this morning.

"How long?" she asked, in that same steady voice.

He shook his head. "I don't know, honey. Not long, I'm afraid."

She turned to face me with that identical firm voice. "You knew this. When did you find out?"

"This morning," I answered. "Billy told me for a reason."

"And that reason is?" she asked, turning back to her father.

"I've hired Bart. To help you run the place until you're ready to run it on your own. He'll be – he'll be the managing partner. He gets a salary and twenty-five percent ownership of the WB Sunday Ranch. When you're ready to take over without him, you'll buy it back from him – at a fair price. He'll be here to help, and teach you anything you need to know that I don't get to before . . . well, in case I don't get to. I been lookin' for just the right man for a while, Evy, and I believe that man is Bart Maverick."

When she spoke at last, her voice was quieter, and a little on the shaky side. "How do you . . . how do you know for sure?"

Billy laughed, and she looked up sharply. "I just do, honey. You get to know a man quickly when you find the right one. And I've twisted Bart's arm until he's agreed to do it. Can you live with that?"

She smiled then, more of an obedient smirk than anything. "Doesn't sound like I have much choice, does it?" She looked back at me again. "How do you feel about all this?"

I picked up one of the other glasses of bourbon and drank it down, feeling it burn its way from my mouth all the way down my throat and into my stomach. Once it stopped burning it left a warm trail all the way down inside me. "Honestly – not happy that it's necessary. But willing to do whatever it takes to make your father feel at peace about everything. I didn't want this, Evy. I didn't come lookin' for it. Billy asked me to do it, for him and for you, and I'm goin' to. If I could change things, I would."

Evy nodded and picked up the third glass of bourbon, drinking it straight down. "That seals the deal, I guess," she commented as she set the glass back down. "Where do we go from here?"


	8. Moving Out

Chapter 7 – Moving Out

Nobody felt like eating supper, so we didn't. No big surprise there. The three of us sat and talked, as much as we could, until it was time for Billy and me to go play poker. Evy's parting words to me were, "I want to talk to you. I'll be at Sugars at seven in the morning. Be there."

I nodded; I wasn't capable of much more at that point. Billy and I left the ranch soon after, and we rode into town much the way we had the night before – in almost complete silence. I kept wondering how his long-time friends were gonna take the news and tried to put myself in their positions. No matter what scenario I envisioned, I kept coming back to this – Billy could quit worrying about what was going to happen to Evy and the ranch and just enjoy whatever time he had left. _'Oh sure, Maverick,'_ I thought to myself, _'how do you enjoy anything when you know each day, each minute might be your last?'_ But then, isn't that true for all of us? We're just never forced to think about it the way Billy was.

Everybody was already at the hotel when we got there, even though it wasn't much past eight o'clock. They looked anxious, and hopeful, and despondent at the same time. Billy did his best to reassure everyone that it was all working out exactly as he'd expected it would, and I tried to look – what? Confident? Excited? Anything other than terrified?

Lee and Hamilton were encouraging, doing everything in their power to assure me that I was up to the task. Mayor Campos told me I'd done the right thing, and emphasized that I could always call on him for assistance. Hank was kind of non-committal but tried to be friendly with his support. Aiden was – Aiden. Kind of quiet but smiling. Right before we sat down to play poker he walked over to me, shook my hand and said, "Thank you." I knew he meant it.

Poker was a little more cutthroat tonight, but I played as well as I had all week and kept right on winning. It almost felt like Lady Luck patting me on the back and saying, "Well done." By the time the night of poker was over I was worn out, physically as well as emotionally. I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning and I still wasn't hungry. All I wanted to do was go to bed and see if I could get some sleep, and that's just what I intended to do – until I remembered Evy. I looked at my watch as everyone was ready to leave. Almost six-thirty.

Billy was the last one to get up from the table besides me. "Evy?" he questioned when I made no move to go.

"Yep."

"Do you know what she wants?" he asked me.

"My head on a platter?" It was the only thing I could think of, and the visual it left me with was interesting, to say the least.

"Be strong, son," he advised as he left the table, giving me the advice with his hand resting on my shoulder. I nodded and got up to move to a smaller table, so Jancy could mop up this one. Just as I did so, Evy came through the front door.

"Sit back down." It wasn't an order, more a plea.

"Just movin' to a smaller table," I answered as I did so. Before I sat, I held out the chair for her. She gave me an odd look but sat down. "You're early."

"So are you," she reminded me.

"Everybody just left."

Sugar was walking from table to table, refilling coffee cups. When she came to ours, she poured a cup for Evy, but I declined. Sugar looked startled, for once. As she walked to the next table Evy said, "Not everybody."

Was there some hostility in that remark or was I imagining things? "Does she bother you? Sugar, I mean."

"Sometimes. Sorta. Maybe. No. Only once in a while."

"Confused much?" I asked her.

"No, I really do like Sugar. And I know that Pa loves her, and she loves him. It's just . . . "

I took a stab at the reason behind the confusion. "She's not your mother?"

"That's it, I guess. What about you? Your father ever have a lady friend?"

How to explain Pappy? That wouldn't be an easy task, even to someone that knew him. "He's had a lot of 'em. He always told us, 'They may replace your mother in my bed, but they'll never replace her in my heart.' And we knew he meant it."

Evy sighed, sounding resigned. "I guess that's good. As long as it's true."

I pointed out something that had struck me right away. "Billy never married Sugar. Any reason that you know of for that?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I never thought about that. Maybe he feels like your father."

"Could be," I answered. "But you didn't come here to talk about your father's love life. Or did you?"

"No, I didn't. I wanted to talk to you about your agreement with Pa."

"You wanna do that here or in private?"

"Private, I guess. Can we go to your hotel room?"

"It's not a good idea for a lady to accompany a gentleman to his hotel room; especially when she's not married to him."

Evy laughed a little at that. "Who says I'm a lady?"

"Who says I'm a gentleman?" We both laughed at that one. "Alright, I'm willing if you are."

She drank the last of her coffee and set the cup down. "Ready."

I offered my arm, and she took it. We walked back to the hotel in the increasing daylight and made our way upstairs. Once again I had someone I didn't know all that well in my hotel room. When I opened the door for Evy she gave the room a once-over and nodded. "I should have guessed you'd be neat and tidy."

"I wasn't always."

We sat at the table and I waited for Evy to start; it took her a few minutes. "You should move out to the ranch."

"Do you want me to? I don't have to, you know." I thought I should, too, but I was going to leave the decision up to her.

"You'd stay here?"

"If it'd make you more comfortable."

"I don't know what would make me more comfortable right now." Pause. "Yes, I do, too. If pa told me he was mistaken and his heart was fine. Can you get him to do that, Bart?"

"No, Evy, I can't. I'm the one that thought you should know the truth."

"And you're right. But I wish you weren't. Well, what exactly does he want you to do?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know what you know and what you don't. And I don't know how I'm supposed to help."

"So where do we start?"

"I think we oughtta shadow him for several days, see just what it is he runs into. Then we can sit down with him and go over the paperwork part of the whole operation. Then . . . "

"Yes?" she asked, giving me her full attention.

"I don't know, Evy. Then we'll see where we stand."

She looked around the room. "How much do you have? Possessions, clothes, things? Can we get you packed up now?"

She'd probably laugh at how little I owned. "Yeah, no problem. Did you ride in or drive in?"

"Ride."

"Alright. I'll pack, you go down to the livery and have them saddle Noble. Bring him back up here and I'll be ready to go."

She watched me for a minute like she wasn't sure, then she made a decision. "I can do that. Get packed." She got up and bent down to kiss me on the cheek before she left. I was startled by the gesture; I certainly hadn't expected it. When I sat there for a minute she slapped me on the shoulder and then headed for the door. "Come on, managing partner. Get a move on," and just like that, she was gone. The more time I spent with this girl, the more she reminded me of my 'sister,' Jody. It was gonna be a while before I figured out if that was good or bad.


	9. Rip Van Winkle

Chapter 8 – Rip Van Winkle

So that was the day I moved into the big house at the WB Sunday Ranch. Tenora returned from her visit in Ciudad Juarez and had prepared one of the guest rooms, just in case, and by the time we got there I was sure glad that she had it all ready. I'd gotten five or six hours sleep in the last thirty-six hours, and my rope was gettin' real short. Short enough that I sat down to have a cup of coffee with Evy and Billy and actually fell asleep at the table. Next thing I knew Billy got me up and into the spare bedroom, where I took off my jacket, hat, guns and one boot before I gave up and fell into bed. It was almost six o'clock that evening when I woke.

In the guest room there was a bed, dresser, a couple of chairs, a window that looked out on the barn and corral, and a wash basin full of warm water, with several clean towels. I cleaned up, shaved, unpacked and changed, and felt a whole lot better when I walked out into the house. It wasn't the fanciest place I've ever stayed in, but it was clean, the mattress felt good, and it suited my needs. Something in the kitchen smelled heavenly, and Evy and Billy were just sitting down to eat.

"Well, just in time for supper," Billy joked, and I grinned.

"Yep, my stomach is well aware of that," I told him. "Sorry to sleep so long."

"I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did. Evy thought maybe she killed you."

"I did not!" Evy protested. "Well, sort of. Sit down and quit standin' there; you live here now. Tenora, Rip Van Winkle is awake."

Tenora stepped into the room with bowls full of the most delicious smelling something-or-other. "Si, Señorita Evy, his timing is perfect. Señor Bart, would you like café?"

"Si, Tenora, I would love some, thank you. Supper smells wonderful."

Tenora smiled as she returned with the coffee. "Gracias, Señor, it is a family recipe. There are tortillas there, too."

"You are all spoiled," I commented to Billy and Evy as I ate. It tasted even better than it smelled.

"Daddy and I talked some this afternoon," Evy explained between bites. "He likes your idea."

"Which one was that?" My turn to ask while I ate.

"The notion of following me around for a few days to see just what goes on around here. And you can get a handle on what Evy's learned so far."

I took another bite of food before asking, "So Billy, how do you manage it? Play poker all night and work all day. When do you sleep?"

Billy chuckled, amused by what he perceived as my plea for rest. He was probably right. "First off, we don't always play every night. Usually Saturday night and most Sunday nights we stay home. And I have to admit, we been playin' longer since you been here. Half the time we're done by two or three in the mornin'. And as for workin' all day – you'll get a good laugh outta that."

"So what you're telling me is you get plenty of sleep?" I asked. Not that I needed a lot. Or sometimes got much. Still, even my system needed its downtime. Except for those nights I couldn't sleep. And so far I hadn't had any of those in Las Cruces.

Tenora called from the kitchen, "I can attest to that. And he snores."

The three of us laughed and kept right on eating. "You up for a full night of poker? We can call it early if we need to," Billy finally offered, as he ate the last tortilla.

"Nope, I'm good for tonight as long as you are."

"Evy, honey, you wanna join us at Sugar's tomorrow at six for breakfast?"

I saw a flash in her eyes, and for a few seconds I thought she was gonna say no, but she surprised me. "Sure, I can be there at six."

"Be dressed to ride all day," Billy told her. "We'll come straight to the ranch from breakfast." I must have given Billy a look of my own because he added, "No poker tomorrow night." Then he turned to me. "You a church goin' man?"

"I've been known to be inside one before," I answered truthfully. "There a reason?"

"Yeah. You've only met the poker group. I'd like to introduce you around to a few more people you need to meet."

"Then I'm a church goin' man. Long as they don't try to lynch me for playin' poker for a living."

"Naw," Billy told me. "Not this bunch. These are good folks."

"I can be there."

"Good. Sunday mornin' at nine. Assuming we haven't run you off by then."

"Not me. Stubborn is my middle name."

Evy piped up just then. "What is your middle name? Do you have one?"

"I do. It's Jamison. Bartley Jamison Maverick."

"Nice name," she giggled. "Mine's Evelyn Grace. Evelyn Grace Sunday."

"Seems appropriate. Grace to go with Sunday, I mean."

Evy had one more question. "Your brother Bret. What's his full name?"

"Breton Joseph. Pappy's Beauregard Jefferson."

"Was that deliberate? All the 'B's' and 'J's', I mean?"

'I guess. Among the men, that is."

Evy's eyebrows shot up. 'You mean there's more?"

"Oh yeah," I told her. "Pappy's brother Bentley Jonathan and his son, Cousin Beau, named for Pappy. Beauregard Jackson."

"Whew, that's a lotta BJ's," Billy remarked. "And there's no little Mavericks runnin' around anywhere?"

"None that we know about," I replied.

"No wives, no sweethearts either?"

"Nope. No wives; no sweethearts that we claim. You just curious, Billy, or is there a reason for all the questions?"

"Oh, just curious," Billy responded. "Come with me for a minute, Bart. I wanna show you somethin'."

We got up from the table then, and I followed Billy into the study. He closed the door behind us and immediately grabbed the bottle of bourbon on his way to sit behind his desk in the far corner of the room. He looked a little pale, but before I could ask him if he was alright he caught me watching him and nodded. "Yep, just what you think. I been short a breath all afternoon, but it's been gettin' worse. And I didn't want Evy to see it. Go bring me a glass, would ya, son?"

I got up and went back to the front of the room, where Billy kept the liquor and the glasses and fetched a glass for him. By the time I got back, he looked like he was breathin' a little easier. "You ever play billiards?"

"Once or twice. I don't know much about it. You play regular?"

"Yeah, I used to. Mostly with the fellas from poker. Haven't played in a while. I can teach ya what I know if you'd like."

I pulled out my watch and looked at it. Six-thirty. We had plenty of time before we had to leave for poker. "Sure," I answered, "why not?"

"Well, first thing ya need to do is take off that jacket. Now, come over here and we'll find you a cue stick that's the right size."

Thus began my billiards lessons.

XXXXXXXX

Another night of poker, another breakfast at Sugars. This one was different by the fact that Evy joined us, and Billy even got Sugar to sit with us for a while. It was pleasant to have the ladies there, and they got along fine. Whatever had been bothering Evy about the café owner the other day didn't seem to be much in evidence this morning. Aiden got to me before he left with a request. "Come have lunch with me sometime next week, if you can," he asked.

"Anything we need to talk about right away?"

"No, I just want to talk about Billy, without the whole herd around. Can you do that? Say Tuesday at noon? There's a private dining room at the hotel, we can meet there if that's alright with you."

"Fine by me," I nodded. "Alright if I tell Billy we're havin' lunch?"

"Certainly." Aiden laughed, a unique little laugh. "Just don't bring him with you. Difficult to talk about your best friend when he's sitting there looking at you."

"Got it. Tuesday at noon at the hotel." Aiden nodded and shook hands again, then headed on out the door. Billy walked up behind me.

"Peculiar fella," I told him.

"He is that. But he'd do anything in the world for you. Anything at all."

Evy stepped between us. "Are we ready to go to work, gentlemen?"

Billy nodded yes. I looked at her and said, "No."

She laughed, and we followed her outside.


	10. First Kiss

Chapter 9 – First Kiss

Nobody ever said life on a working ranch is exciting, and the Sunday Ranch was no different than thousands of others. Billy raised and sold cattle for both local consumption and for shipping off to market, as well as breeding purposes. In addition, he practically had a lock on the local market for pigs, and he supplied all of the cafes, diners, restaurants and cantinas with fresh eggs. The ranch was incredibly diverse and ran efficiently, partly due to the systems in place and partly due to the employees he had. His foreman was an older man named Clint Evers, and he'd worked for Billy for almost twenty years. Clint was the only one that knew about Billy's health problems.

Evers reminded me of Jess Wilson, Caroline's and now Samantha's foreman. Calm and quiet, he was all business with a friendly smile, just the kind of man you wanted in charge of everything. It ran economically and smoothly, and there really wasn't a lot for Billy or anyone else to do but show up and make decisions. Clint had long been the man in the valley you went to when your son or daughter was ready to learn not only how to ride but how to handle and care for a horse, and he had begun teaching Evy the skills she would need to carry on the effort. She liked helping the little ones learn, and had taken to it naturally. I wanted to make sure that she was able to continue.

I wasn't concerned with how many beds were full in the bunk house; that part was up to Clint. I just wanted to be sure that the ranch hands we employed were the right ones. As Billy had predicted, we were done with the days concerns right around lunch and headed back to the house. I went straight to my room to catch some shut-eye. Just as it had been ever since arriving in Las Cruces, my sleep was undisturbed and nightmare free. When I woke I lay in bed for quite a while, wondering just what was going on in that head of mine. Or, rather, not going on in my head.

I had regular dreams, just like everybody else. But on occasion, especially when there was something unusual going on in my life – and when wasn't there? – I had more than my fair share of what I would politely call nightmares. No, not like the hallucinations I'd had up on Lakota Mountain (those were organically induced), but the dreams I'd had about wives, families, brothers, fathers, and dozens of other people, places, and things that were peculiar. The nightmares had started when Momma died, but suddenly they seemed to have quit. As Brother Bret would say, "Odd, Bart. Very odd." And I had no explanation for the change.

I finally got myself out of bed and presentably dressed and wandered on out into the kitchen to see what Tenora could put together to fill my empty stomach. Once that problem was solved I found myself headed for Billy's study, where a game of billiards was in progress – between Billy and Evy. I watched the two of them, fascinated. The girl was every bit as good as her father, maybe even better. After she'd beaten him, she turned to me. "You next?" Evy asked.

"Oh, no," I protested. "I'm just a beginner – ask your father."

Billy nodded and laughed. "That he is daughter, that he is."

"What if I agree that Daddy can help you with your shots?"

"Seriously? Any kind of help?"

"Any kind of help," she giggled.

"Alright, I'm game." So I found the cue stick I'd used the other night, and we started. Needless to say, it was a massacre. Even with Billy's help she beat me so bad that it was just pitiful. Kind of the way I expected that I'd do to her in poker. By the time that game was over Lee Frazier had arrived to see Billy, and he and Billy played the next game while Evy and I went for a walk outside.

The moon had risen and all the stars were out; it was a beautiful night. We walked over to the corral and watched the yearlings run in the grass and dirt and play. Evy seemed to be in a relatively good mood, and I was feeling pretty fine myself. I rested a boot on the lower rung of the corral and lit a cigar, taking a long enough draw on it to get it lit. "What do those things taste like?" Evy asked.

I held it out to her. "Taste it for yourself."

She took it and took a draw herself, and in doing so she almost choked to death. "Awww! Awful!" she spit out, and I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. "How do you stand it?"

"It's an acquired taste," I told her, and looked down into those dark black eyes. There was no more distrust or distaste in them, and without thinking twice about it, I leaned down and kissed her. For just a moment she kissed me back, then she pulled away and slapped me. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, then did my best to explain. "You were just so . . . so damn beautiful. "

"I was? I am? That's no excuse," she chastised me, and I threw the cigar away and pulled her in close, and kissed her properly. This time there was no slapping, and no pulling away. When the kiss was done, I stepped back and let go of her. "I thought you weren't going to court me?" she asked, almost breathless.

"I'm not," was my only answer.

"Then what do you . . . "

"A kiss, Evy, it was only a kiss. Not a marriage proposal. Can you accept it for what it was?"

"I . . . yes."

"You remind me of my sister . . . sort of."

"I thought the Mavericks only had men-children."

"She's actually our cousin. Jody. Lives in Montana. You don't look like her. But your personality . . . "

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's good. Jody's a great girl. We're really close, more like brother and sister than cousins."

"Did you kiss her, too?"

"No."

"Then why . . . ?"

"Let's just go back inside," I answered, too confused myself to explain. We settled down in the main room, and it wasn't long before Lee and Billy walked to the front door. Whatever Lee had come to discuss was handled, and we all bade him goodnight. Billy turned back from the door and looked straight at me.

"Tomorrow's Sunday."

Like I didn't know that. I nodded my head anyway. "So it is."

"You goin' with us?"

I nodded again. "I said I would."

"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind."

"What time do you leave?"

"Around half-past eight."

I glanced over at Evy. "And you, Missy – I owe you a dinner. Tomorrow night at seven. Alright?"

Evy nodded and threw my impertinence right back at me. "I said I would."

"Touché."

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Bart. Night, Daddy," and she walked over and kissed her father on the cheek.

"Nothing for me?" I asked playfully.

"You already got yours," she insisted, and slapped me on the arm as she walked by me. I caught a peek at Billy just in time to see him wiping a grin off his face. Once Evy was gone I pulled out another cigar and lit it, offering one to Billy. He accepted, and we sat in silence and smoked for a few minutes. Finally he got up and stubbed out the rest of the cigar.

"You too?" I asked.

Billy let loose with a soft chuckle. "You haven't heard Reverend Wilcox preach yet. Better be well-rested when you listen to one of his sermons."

"Alright. I can take a hint. Goodnight, Mr. Sunday."

"Goodnight, Mr. Maverick."


	11. Unexpected Revelations

Chapter 10 – Unexpected Revelations

I have to admit, it did seem odd getting up at that hour of the day and going to church, but a promise is a promise, and that's what I'd given to Billy. I dressed like it was church and not a saloon and was ready promptly at half-passed eight, just as I'd been instructed. I hadn't been inside a lot of churches since the day Caroline and I were married, but I had seen the walls of more than one or two. So I was more or less housebroken.

I took Momma's Bible with me. Evy looked at it for a long time before she said anything. "Yours?"

"My mothers."

"Have you ever read it?"

I know she wasn't expecting the answer I gave her. "Momma taught us to read from this book. I read it all the time. Don't look so surprised."

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect that."

I gave a little laugh. I wouldn't have expected it, either. "I'm just full of surprises."

Without looking at me she answered. "Yes, you are."

We drove the rest of the way to church in silence. It was a relatively large structure for such a small town. The building itself was old; it had been there a long time, but it had a new coat of paint and a beautifully melodic church bell. We were ushered inside, and I was happy that Billy and Evy didn't sit right up front. Sometimes I think that just might be a little too tempting for God, to see me that close and not reach out and smite me. The choir was actually quite delightful and sang two songs I knew well, but when the right Reverend Wilcox began to preach, I understood Billy's comments from the night before. What could have been a passionate and moving tale of woe and redemption turned into a dull and stale piece of storytelling. And it certainly wasn't the subject matter that made it seem that way.

Reverend Wilcox was a man in his late forties who should have infused his speech with fervor and grace. Instead, he preached in a sing-song voice and, quite frankly, I could have given a more rousing sermon. Thankfully he didn't belabor his subject, and after two more songs from the choir the service was over. Evy leaned over to me and whispered, "Good job. You stayed awake the whole time."

"Believe me, it was a struggle," I explained to her.

"Brace yourself, the onslaught is about to begin."

I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but I soon found out. Either Billy Sunday knew every single person that attended church or they all wanted to see who the newcomer was, because I met so many people I couldn't begin to remember all the names. I was fortunate that Billy introduced me as his new 'managing partner' and an old friend, because we'd still be there explaining to people if he'd told them what I really did for a living and that he'd known me all of a week.

There were two rather significant people among all the others. The first was Banker John Mueller. Actually he was the Bank Owner and President of Las Cruces Bank and Trust. Billy had arranged for a weekly deposit into an account he'd opened for me and wanted to make sure that John and I were well-acquainted.

The second was Attorney Sam Bates. I didn't know it, but Billy had arranged for a consultation with Attorney Bates to make sure I understood and was comfortable with the way everything in our agreement was laid out. Sam wanted me to come into his office when convenient so that we could go over all the legalities, and Tuesday before lunch with Aiden sounded like a good time.

Once we got back to the ranch, I saddled Noble for a trip into town. If I was gonna be here a while I wanted to let Bret and Pappy know where I was, so the telegraph office was my destination. I reaffirmed my dinner with Evy for seven o'clock before leaving and rode towards Las Cruces. Going out the gate instead of going in the gate on Valpariso Road seemed a little odd – I don't know quite why. Maybe the sensation that I was running away?

The wire was short.

 _Working on a project in Las Cruces._

 _Could be here a while._

 _WB Sunday Ranch._

 _All my best, Bart._

I was leaving the telegraph office when I saw the jail and decided to drop in on Hamilton. He was down at the Las Cruces Saloon, his deputy informed me, so I walked a little farther down the street and found him just settling a dispute between two former friends who'd fallen out with each other when they got drunk. Ah, no wonder I don't drink. Since the dispute was finally settled amicably, Hamilton didn't have to take either one back to jail, so we stood at the bar and drank for a while (yes, I mean coffee).

"How's it goin' out at the ranch?" was the first thing he asked me.

"Not bad, considerin' I feel like a fish out of water. I'm just a simple, poker-playin' Texas boy, Hamilton, and that is a complicated business."

"You may be a poker-playin' Texas boy, Maverick, but simple you ain't. Billy looked a long time for the right man to handle everything out there, and if he says you're the one to do it, then you're the one to do it."

"I'm glad you all have so much faith in me. I wish I had it in myself."

"And how is Miss Evy taking all this?"

I kind of laughed. "She seems to be handling it better than anybody expected. Either that or she's puttin' on a good act."

"Poor kid. Her mother . . . "

"Was killed when she was ten. I know. Billy told me."

Hamilton made a face that was somewhere between intense anger and abject horror. "Not exactly. Talk to Billy and get the real story from him."

The real story? Obviously there was more to this than what little I'd been told. "Hamilton . . . "

"Uh-uh. This one you gotta get from the man himself. Maybe he'll tell you. Let him know we talked. And give him my regards."

That was enough for me. The sheriff and I swapped stories for a few minutes more, then he went back to the jail and I went back to my horse. I think I may have just found the first chink in the armor.

All the way back to the ranch I kept running different scenarios over in my head. If Evelyn's mother hadn't been killed, what happened to her? Had she run off? Deserted Billy and Evy, the way so many people just packed up and left? Or had something more dire happened? From the look on Hamilton's face, I was betting on the latter.

Evy was out with Clint and a sister and brother from down the road who wanted to 'wide,' as they'd put it. I found Billy in the study, staring out the window. What was he thinking? How many more days would he see, how many more nights? Would he make it to fall? Or would summer be the end of the road for him? I couldn't begin to imagine what he was going through, and I hope I never have to. I knocked on the door, even though it was open. The last thing I wanted to be was the cause of Billy's death. He looked over at me and smiled. "Hey, Bart, come on in. Did you get the wire sent off to your brother?"

"Yes, sir, I sure did. And I ran into Hamilton at the saloon."

"Couldn't make it into town and back without coffee, huh?"

''Nope. He sends his regards, by the way. We got to talking about the ranch and how everything was goin', and the subject of Evy came up. He started to tell me somethin', then he told me to see you. That you'd tell me what happened to her momma. What am I missin', Billy?"

In what little time it had taken me to ask my question, Billy Sunday's countenance had gone from bright and sunny to something darker and more shocking than the blackest night. I had no idea that he even had it in him to be that upset, much less the speed at which the transition was made. We sat there for almost five full minutes while this man that I had come to like and trust struggled to regain control. Finally he let out a long breath and said very quietly, "Shut the door. I don't want Evy to hear this."

I got up and did as instructed. When I came back and sat down he seemed to be a more ordinary, rational version of himself, and I waited for him to begin. "What I told you was the truth, about Evy's mother. She was killed when Evy was only ten years old. But there's more than that to explain. And if you ever tell Evy any of this, I'll come back and haunt you for the rest of your natural life."

I had no doubt that Billy meant every word he said. "You have my word, Billy, as a gentleman."

He nodded, indicating that was good enough for him. "What you're missing is the most important piece of the puzzle, and the reason for my remark the other morning about Aiden being willing to do anything in the world for you. You see, I was there when Barbara Jean was killed. I'm the one who shot her. And Aiden Carmichael took the blame for it."


	12. Blue Ruffles

Chapter 11 – Blue Ruffles

"What?" Billy Sunday had just informed me that he'd committed murder, and the victim was his very own wife. And worse than that, Aiden Carmichael took the blame for the killing.

"Sit down, Bart. You need to hear the whole story before you jump to any more conclusions."

I got up and sat in a chair closer to him so that he didn't have to talk so loud. I hadn't said another word; this sounded like it was going to be a story I didn't want to interrupt. "We'd settled here right before Evelyn was born. It took me a while to hire Clint and get the ranch staffed, and I was working day and night. Barbara Jean had a hard time with the baby, both before and after her birth, and I wasn't around near as much as I should have been. Barbara got herself a nanny for the baby, and that wasn't all she got herself. When Evy was four years old, we hired a ranch hand named Brice McNair. Brice was a fine-looking young man, maybe a year or two younger than Barbara, and had lots of pretty manners. He paid more attention than he should have to the lady of the house, and she reciprocated.

"Evy was about seven when things at the ranch started to settle down. Clint and me had the place runnin' pretty good, and I got to come home and spend more time with Evy. Barbara Jean was all wrapped up in church, and the ladies in town, and Brice. I didn't know it at the time. Evy started telling me stories about momma and her friend, and I thought she meant her lady friends. It took me almost a year to catch on to the fact that Momma had a man friend. Even then I didn't wanna believe it. So I went about tryin' to find her and him together. When I finally did she cried and begged and pleaded for another chance, and me like a fool, I gave her one. I fired Brice and Barbara Jean swore it was over and she wanted to stay with me and Evy, but it wasn't."

Billy stopped and drank another shot of the bourbon he was so fond of. When he started up again his voice cracked and broke from time to time; I could only imagine how hard this was for him. "We had a little cabin up in the hills; Evy loved to go up there and spend a day or two, just her and me. We went one Friday and weren't supposed to be back until Sunday night, but Evy got sick and we came home on Saturday instead. When I got to the top of the hill I knew Barbara'd been lyin' to me – Brice's horse was tied up out front. I took Evy to stay with Aiden so she wouldn't see what was about to happen. And then I came back here to kill her.

"Aiden had his mother stayin' with him that weekend. He left Evy with her and followed me back to the house. By the time he got here Barbara Jean was already dead, and that coward Brice was gone. Grabbed his pants and jumped through the window. I took a couple shots at him, but I missed. Never saw him again.

"Carmichael found me sittin' on the floor of the bedroom, holdin' Barbara Jean and cryin'. I don't remember everything he did – I know he got me cleaned and in different clothes, then he burned what I had on and took care of the bedroom. Sent Clint for the sheriff we had at the time – told him there'd been a terrible accident. Told the sheriff he'd come over to show Barbara how to use the gun to protect herself while we were gone, and it went off when she dropped it. Took full responsibility for somethin' he had nothin' to do with."

Finally I asked a question. "What about Aiden's mother?"

"His momma never said a word about anything. She figured if Aiden was doin' what he was doin', there was a pretty good reason for it. Judge declared it an accidental death and set Aiden free, but his reputation was ruined. At one time he'd been thinkin' about goin' into politics; that was gone. And he's the one that told Evy the story about the gun goin' off. I couldn't do it. I couldn't face my little girl, knowin' I'd taken her ma from her, even if she was a no-good lyin' . . . I tore down the room I'd shot her in, built a whole new bedroom where it used to stand.

"All these years Aiden's kept my secret. Covered up for me when he didn't have to, saved me from hangin' and Evy hatin' me forever. Never asked for nothin' from me."

"How much does Hamilton know?" It was obvious the sheriff knew pieces of the story, from the way he'd worded his statement to me in the saloon.

"He knows that somethin' happened other than what Aiden told the judge. That's all. He's probably guessed, over the years, but he's never said a word to anyone except you. I guess he figured I must have told you the truth about that night. And now I have. If you wanna back out of our deal, I understand. But I hope you won't. There's not a day that goes by, I don't wish I'd done somethin' different. Anything different. But I ain't figured out how to do that, Bart. You ever have somethin' happen you'd give anything to change?"

I'm sure there was more than one thing in my life, but the first thing that came to mind was Caroline and the morning she was killed. There were so many other ways it could have gone. But the one thing I'd learned up on Lakota Mountain was that you can't change what's already happened, no matter how bad you want to, and you have to find a way to live with whatever it is that's eatin' at you. "I'd imagine we all do, Billy. And I'm not gonna back out of our agreement. You suppose Aiden wants to tell me the story? Is that why he wants to have lunch?"

Billy shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe he just wants to know if I've told you."

Did I like it? No. Did I understand it? That answer was a little more ambiguous. Would I say anything about it? No. First off, and most important, I'd given my word. Second of all, to borrow one of my brother's favorite lines, it wasn't my story to tell.

Well, this had been quite a day for what should have been a quiet little Sunday. And it wasn't over yet. I still had to take Evy to dinner at seven o'clock. How much more was that event liable to change my life? Guess I'd just have to wait and see.

XXXXXXXX

I'd call her a little stinker, like I would have Jody, but the woman I was looking at deserved effusive compliments and accolades and not out-and-out teasing. She'd made me think that she didn't even own a dress, and here she stood in front of me in something that was a beautiful blue concoction of ruffles and folds. Billy took one look at me and started laughing, finally managing to tell me, "Remember to breathe, son." His remark was well placed, as I'd forgotten to as soon as I caught a glimpse of her.

My God, who was this beauty? And why had she presented herself to me at this time on this day? Was this really the tomboy I'd kissed just the night before? And if I thought she was beautiful then, what would I call her now?

I held out my hand to her, and she took it. For the first time I noticed how soft and warm her hands were, not at all calloused and hardened as I'd imagined them. "I thought . . . I mean, you said . . . I didn't think you owned a dress."

She threw her head back then and laughed, and it was Evelyn Sunday's laugh, all right. A single curl tumbled down from where the rest of them perched on top of her head, and it only added to the grace and elegance that was Evy. To say I was smitten was an understatement.

"See, I'm full of surprises, too."

She certainly was. And hers were better than mine. "Beautiful surprises," I told her. "Where have you been hiding?"

Another carefree laugh. "Right under your very nose."

I moved her hand to my arm. "May I escort you to your carriage, Miss Sunday?"

"That would be most pleasant, Mr. Maverick."

I was playing with her, and she was playing right back. I hadn't felt this good since . . . well, let's just say in a very long time.

I helped her into the carriage, then followed her in. Billy stood at the door and waved goodbye to us, and we both waved back. He was smiling, and I think he was pleased – certainly not by me. By the change in Evy. She was laughing and happy – I hadn't heard her in a bad temper since I first got here.

We had a wonderful dinner. She was full of joy and life, and I couldn't help myself. I was charmed by her. Fascinated. Amused. Besotted. We drank wine and ate desert – a rarity in my world. We laughed and talked and told stories. I divulged every little detail about my life that I could think of, even about Caroline. And I didn't flinch when I talked about the Double C Ranch and what happened there.

Evy talked about growing up on the ranch, and what it meant to her when Billy was finally able to spend time with her. She adored her father; that was evident from the way she talked about him. Her talking about Billy and her relationship with him finally led me to try and explain Pappy to her, in all his glory.

Now, there is nothing about Beauregard Jackson Maverick that the average person could begin to understand. But Evy had asked me about him, several times actually, so I set out to do my best when it came to Pappy. I spent almost an hour trying to get him just right, at least in her mind's eye, and when I was finally done, she sat and stared at me. "And your brother is as normal as you are?" was her first question. "How did that happen?"

"Well, sometimes. Most of the time, I guess. But he looks so much like Pappy that it's scary, and sometimes he acts like him, too. Like I told you once before, that's why I used to call him Pappy."

"But not anymore?"

"Not for that reason, no. Now it's just, well, it's affection, more than anything. There's nothin' we wouldn't do for each other, Evy. Nothin'. Wait till you meet him. But I have to warn ya right up front – he's got killer dimples. Soon as he smiles, all the women are head-over-heels for him."

She put her hand under her chin and leaned on her elbow. "Dimples are overrated."

That may have been the moment I fell in love with Evelyn Sunday.


	13. Conning the Con Man

Chapter 12 – Conning the Con Man

It was late when we drove back. We'd spent the whole night eating and talking, talking and eating. Then, just in case we hadn't done enough, we talked some more. Evy was quiet, maybe because I was all talked out and didn't say much. Maybe she'd just fallen into a contemplative mood. When we got to the top of the hill that overlooked the little valley the house and barn sat in, we stopped in the moonlight for a few minutes. I tied the horse's reins to the buggy rail and sat back; Evy sat forward watching me. "Do you mind if I have a cigar?"

"Not at all," she answered me, and I took one from my coat pocket and struck the match on the buggy. In just a moment I had it lit, and I settled into the corner to smoke. Evy leaned back against me, and I instinctively put my arm around her. It was the quietest we'd been in hours. I was surprised when she finally asked a question. "What do you want, Bart? Out of life, I mean. What is it you're after?"

I thought about that for a minute. "You mean besides love, money and freedom?"

"Was that a particular order those were in? And yes, I mean besides love, money and freedom."

For once I spoke from my heart and not my head. "I want a home. I want a woman that makes me laugh. And kids. Lots of kids. I wanna teach 'em to ride and play poker. I want them to know how to cheat and why they should never do it. I want somebody to sit on the porch and rock with when I'm old. I want to get up and go when I feel the need to. And I want my woman to love me in spite of that."

"Do you think a woman like that is out there somewhere?"

I looked her right in the eyes. "I do." Was I looking at her now?

Evy said nothing more, but I'd asked myself a question that I couldn't answer. Oh, I know my emotions and my reputation for falling in love at first sight. And I have to admit, it was well-deserved. But this wasn't like my usual head-first plunge into that overwhelming sentiment. This one was different, somehow. It wasn't her eyes, or her hair, or her voice. It wasn't her laugh or her attitudes and mannerisms. It was her – everything about her, everything I could see in her, everything she made me feel. The whole enchilada, as my Mexican friends might say. I took one more draw on the cigar and threw the rest away, into the dirt. After I'd blown the smoke out, I turned back to the girl sitting next to me. "Evy?"

"Hmmm?" was her response.

I wrapped her up in my other arm and pulled her to me. She was warm and soft, just as I'd expected her to be, but she was more than that. She fit perfectly in my arms, pressed against my chest, and I wanted her to stay right there. Forever.

XXXXXXXX

Just to be sure I had a good idea of how everything ran, we spent all of Monday morning and most of the afternoon with Billy. I have to say, a large ranch operation is a lot more complicated than a small ranch. I skipped a late lunch to get a few hours' sleep in before going to town to play poker. I wasn't sure how well I was gonna play tonight; my mind was spinning in too many different directions. But I'm just like my brother in that respect – when I need to digest somethin' that's really bothering me, I go play poker. And right now that's exactly what I needed.

Something kept nagging at me, tugging at the edge of my consciousness, and it wouldn't leave me alone. Sometimes if I sat real still and quiet I could almost hear a voice talking to me, but I couldn't recognize the words or who it was sayin' things. It was an odd feeling, and somehow I knew it was important. I just couldn't make any sense of it. At first I thought maybe it was my feelings for Evy, come to give me grief like they usually did, but when I thought about her all I could feel was peace, and comfort, and happiness. No, this was something else entirely, like a warning issued in a language I couldn't understand, and I could tell from the urgency in the voice that it was important, but I just couldn't hear it clearly.

It made me remember the troubling feelings I'd had earlier when I thought about my lack of nightmares and the fact I was having no problem sleeping at night – most unusual for me. Something was off, or odd, or peculiar, and I just couldn't figure out what it was. My head was so occupied with this thing that was slightly out of reach that I played poker by rote – and darned, I just kept winning. Definitely something odd about that, too. I know, I'm a professional, I'm supposed to win more than I lose. But this was the kind of 'winning' streak that one rarely has – it just seemed that no matter what I did, it all worked out. Well, maybe it was my turn at last. Or maybe I was just dreaming all this, and none of it was real. So I turned and looked at Billy, who was sitting to my immediate left. "I'm awake, aren't I?" I asked out of nowhere.

He scrutinized me like I was slightly crazy, and I can't say that I blamed him. Then he laughed just a little, and soon we were all laughing. "If you're not, son, then we're all asleep with ya, and this must be an awful big bed!"

I just let it go after that. Whatever was out there had no intention of breaking through the wall my head had erected, and I had no desire to keep worrying about . . . nothing. We played through the night and quit about six. I went to Sugar's with everyone but skipped breakfast and settled for coffee, since I was having lunch with Aiden, then rode back to the ranch to get cleaned up, shaved, and changed. A little before eleven o'clock I was at Sam Bates office to keep the appointment Billy made for me.

Attorney Bates seemed a reasonable fellow, and one of the few attorneys I've ever met that talked to you in a language anyone could understand. Everything Billy had explained to me earlier was in the agreement, with one exception – he'd added a provision that concerned Evy. It seemed that if by some chance I happened to marry Evy, I was to become a fifty percent owner of the ranch and all related enterprises. I wasn't happy about the addition, and I told Sam that. "I want that removed from the deal," I told Mr. Bates. "Billy's been more than generous, and I'll not have anyone ever think – "

"That you might be after Evelyn for her money?" Sam asked.

"Exactly."

"So you won't sign it today?"

"Not with that provision in it, no."

Sam Bates chuckled and I shot him a strange look. "Billy had me prepare an alternate version, just in case." He pulled another copy of the agreement out of his desk drawer and handed it to me. This one lacked the language about marrying Evy and becoming a fifty percent owner. Now I remember all too well what Pappy said about written contracts: _'Sign nothing.'_ But I'd read this over from top to bottom, and I'd already committed to the arrangement, so I signed it.

"I have to admit, Billy was right. You do appear to be a man of your word. I apologize, Mr. Maverick, for anything I may have thought before. Is there anything you wish to know?"

I wanted to hear what Bates had to say, so I asked. "Whose idea was the fifty percent trap?" The attorney looked momentarily flustered, and I had my answer without him saying a word. "That's a good enough answer, Mr. Bates. I didn't think it was Billy."

"No offense meant, Mr. Maverick, but I was hired to protect Billy Sunday's interests and those of his daughter Evy. That's my job, and I needed to know if you were something more than a con man."

I had to give the attorney his due; he was being protective of the Sundays. "You know, Mr. Bates, I would be offended if I was as unscrupulous as you thought I was. But I'm not. Even con men have their limits." I got up out of my seat and left, not bothering to shake the man's hand. He'd just reminded me what I was in this life when I needed to be that particular breed of animal.

I was in no mood for lunch with Aiden Carmichael after my encounter with Sam Bates. Was that what Billy's friends thought, that I had conned my way into Billy's life and his house? If it was, they were about to find out just how perturbed a Maverick could get.


	14. Dying Time

Chapter 13 –Dying Time

I met Aiden at the hotel and we went to the private dining room which he'd reserved for our lunch. He was smiling and seemed glad to see me, which was a nice change from the feeling I'd gotten at Bates office. We shook hands and sat down, and Aiden recommended what they called a 'club sandwich.' I drank sweet tea instead of coffee; for once I wanted something that didn't burn its way down my throat. We made small talk until lunch arrived, and then Aiden gave instructions for us to be left undisturbed for a while.

"Bart, I wanted to talk to you about . . . Billy and Evy. And that night."

I stared down at my plate for a minute. "Billy told me what happened. What actually happened."

Aiden ran his hand through his hair. "About that . . . "

I sat and waited. Finally I asked, "Yes?"

"What Billy told you is wrong."

"But he remembers . . . "

He put up his hand to stop me. "He gave you what he thinks is the truth, Bart. He told you the story about seeing Brice McNair's horse out front of the house and bringing Evy back to my place, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "That's the one."

"Wrong. All wrong. McNair's horse was around back. I know because that's where I found it when I went to kill him."

"When you . . . Billy said he went to the house to kill Barbara Jean."

Aiden let loose a big sigh and a frustrated look. "I'm sure he did, but that's not what happened. You need to know the truth, in case Evelyn remembers that night."

"Evy was there? Then Billy didn't . . . "

"Get her back to my place? No, he didn't. She was there at the house the whole time." Aiden stopped and pushed his plate out of the way, then clasped his hands in front of him and rested them on the table. At long last he began the tale of what really happened the night Barbara Jean Sunday was killed.

"Billy confided in me some time after he'd caught Barbara and Brice together. For some reason I suspected right away that she'd lied to him and hadn't quit seeing McNair, who'd gone to work for Dave Hollingsworth over in Mesilla. So I kept my eyes and ears open, and about six months later I spotted them together when I went to Mesilla on business. After that I started watching her. What I intended to do, I don't know.

"Billy seemed to be trying his best to make everything work in the marriage, but two or three times Evy made totally innocent remarks that led me to believe my instincts were right. I even went over to see Barbara Jean when Billy was out of town, trying to convince her to be the kind of wife a man like Billy deserved. She laughed at me, told me she was a grown woman and it was none of my business. Since I couldn't get through to her, I rode over to Hollingsworth's to talk to Brice. He was ugly and defiant. Had no respect for Billy or the marriage, basically laughed in my face and told me to go away. Never pretended to love her; he was just using her to get what he wanted.

"So the Saturday that Billy and Evy were up at the cabin, I decided there was only one way out of it, and that was to get rid of McNair. I'd given it a lot of thought and come to the conclusion that as long as he was around nothing was gonna change. I came in the back way; that's how I knew where his horse was. I caught 'em together, Bart – and it made me sick. I made them get dressed and ordered him outside – and that's when Billy and Evy arrived. I turned my attention to Billy for just a minute – to tell him to get Evy out of there – and Brice pulled his gun and shot, but not at me – he shot at Billy and Evy. That's when I killed him.

"Barbara Jean scrambled for his gun and took aim at her husband. I didn't have any choice – I shot her. Evy ran out of the room right before that happened; she didn't see me kill her mother. That's when Billy's mind – well, it just seemed to go off somewhere by itself. He started babbling about him shooting her, and I had other things to deal with. I got rid of McNair's body and his horse, then came back to address the mess I'd left there. Billy was right about some of it – when I came back he was holding Barbara's body and rocking her. I cleaned him up and cleaned the room, then sent Clint for the sheriff.

"I think Micah knew that something happened other than what I told him, but he never questioned my story; and Billy, thank God, was too incoherent to pay any attention to. Micah Sparks was the sheriff. I don't know what Evy saw or heard – he never questioned her. Billy'd gotten it in his head that he ran Brice off and killed Barbara Jean, and nothing I said could convince him otherwise. I finally persuaded him to keep his mouth shut for Evy's sake, and that's the way it's been ever since."

Aiden looked like a man who's been drug through hell and back when he finally quit talking. He was pale and sweating – almost as if he'd just lived through the nightmare he'd explained to me, instead of it being more than ten years ago. I had to ask him, "Why did you trust me enough to tell me all this? You barely know me, Aiden."

"Doesn't matter," he replied quickly. "Billy trusts you. That's good enough."

"What am I supposed to do, now that I know the honest-to-God truth?"

Billy's best friend shook his head. "Nothing. But somebody needed to know. Somebody besides Billy and me. Just in case . . . "

"In case what, Aiden? In case Evy asks about it? Why couldn't you tell her?" Carmichael didn't answer me; he didn't have to. I could see it in his eyes. Billy Sunday wasn't the only one that was dying. "How long?"

He shook his head. "Don't know for sure. Probably not long." He changed his line of sight, looking straight at me. "That has to stay between us, alright?"

I nodded. Too much dying goin' on. I didn't know Aiden very well, but I liked him. First Billy, now him. Like I said, too much dying. "It will. Unless Evy asks me."

He smiled then, an ironic little smile, and seemed to be at peace with it all. "Billy picked right. Fell in love with her already, haven't you?"

I returned a sheepish little grin. "Guess so."

"Have you told her?"

I shook my head 'no.' "What if she doesn't feel the same way?"

He almost snorted, trying to suppress the laugh. "I've seen her watching you. You've got nothing to worry about."

I wondered if he was right. Maybe it was time I found out.

XXXXXXXX

Noble must have questioned just who it was riding him back down Valpariso Road, because my mind was on anything besides him. And if I didn't already have sufficient information to think about, Aiden had given me a whole new picture of the actual events of the night Barbara Jean Sunday and Brice McNair were killed. As if that wasn't enough, Carmichael insisted to me that Evy felt about me the same way I felt about her. What if he was correct? Worse yet, what if he was wrong?

Once I got back to the ranch I had to put all of the worries and concerns aside; Evy and I were supposed to sit down with Billy and go over the bookkeeping for the operations. I wasn't worried about staying awake; I was worried about all the responsibilities I seemed to have suddenly assumed. I'd turned into a teacher, a guide, a keeper of secrets, and a man thinking about the unthinkable – marriage and death.

Fortunately the system that was set up wasn't too complicated; as a matter of fact, it reminded me a whole lot of the way Sally Bodeen had set up Sassy Sally's paperwork in Dodge City. I was a lot less concerned about that once I'd gotten a good look at things. We spent most of the afternoon learning the ins and outs of Billy's system, and around six o'clock Tenora knocked on the study door to let us know that supper was ready. "Billy, can we talk for a minute after dinner?"

"Sure, Bart. Here or on the ride to town?"

"Here, if that's alright."

"Fine. Soon as we're done."

I nodded and followed Billy and Evy in to supper. I had some things to discuss with Mr. Sunday, and I wanted to get them off my chest before we went to La Cruces. Not the least of which was the ranch ownership problem I'd run into with Sam Bates. I was hoping I'd feel better about it after I'd made my sentiments known.


	15. Never

Chapter 14 – Never

"I wouldn't sign the agreement, Billy, and I think you know why."

"The ranch ownership?" Billy didn't have any trouble figuring it out, from the look on his face.

I nodded. "Did Bates really talk you into it?"

Billy looked guilty, which kind of surprised me. "It was his idea, yeah."

"But you had him draw up the second agreement?"

"Showed you that, did he?"

"After I refused the first one." Billy poured himself a drink and offered me one; I declined. "Why?"

"He persuaded me to make sure you weren't just a con-man looking for a score. I'm ashamed to admit I listened to him. I offer my apologies once more. It seems I've made another mistake."

I sat in the chair across from him and gave it some thought. Finally I told him, "I can understand why you needed to know."

In a very subdued voice he told me, "You don't have to sign either of them."

"I already did," I explained. "I signed the second one – the one without the additional ownership."

"But – "

"That's what we agreed to, Billy."

"I really wanted to give you more, Bart."

I was puzzled, and I was a little disturbed. "Did you? Or were you maybe trying to buy me for Evy?"

"No. I don't do things like that."

"Good. Then I don't ever have to worry about it happenin' again, do I?" I needed to make sure Billy understood and accepted my point of view. I was inchin' toward doing something I swore I'd never do again, and if I got there this time I wanted to make sure it was my way and nobody else's.

"No, you don't. You have my word, Bart, as a gentleman." I remembered my promise to Billy and smiled just a little that he'd quoted it back to me.

"Now, tell me, how do you think we've done with the books, overall?"

He looked happier than he had since we started talking. "I'm not concerned about you. You seem to have a good grasp of it. Evy . . . not as much as I'd like."

"Remember, I'll be here to guide her," I reminded him.

"For a while."

I was getting ready to say something else, but I decided to wait. Better left for another day. I checked my watch. It was half past seven. "What time we leavin' tonight?"

"Eight?" It was a question rather than a statement.

"Sounds good. I'll meet you in the barn."

I started to leave when Billy stopped me. "Son?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I really am sorry if I overstepped."

"Forget it. Everybody makes mistakes."

XXXXXXXX

The next few days were more or less a blur. I played poker with the group at night and spent every spare moment with Evy. Billy might have had reservations about Evy and the ranch paperwork, but I had no reservations about her knowledge of how everything ran. The bad temper everyone had warned me about seemed to exist no longer; the only time the 'new' Evy disappeared was when the concern for her father overwhelmed her.

Billy was with us a lot, and I understood Evy's desire to be around her pa as much as possible. I tried not to be a selfish man, but I wanted some alone time with her, so I skipped poker one night and we rode up into the hills and ate a late supper there. Tenora was a genius when it came to food, and we sat under a tree and took turns feeding each other and laughing.

I was leaning against the tree and Evy was leaning against me. It was pleasant and peaceful, and as I held her I reached down and kissed the top of her head. She laughed softly and asked me, "Remember when you said you weren't going to court me?"

"Did I say that?"

"You did – you know you did."

"I plead insanity." I kissed her head again and then continued. "Besides, who says I'm courting you?"

"Aren't you?" She raised her face up to look at me, and I leaned down and kissed her lips.

"No. Remember when you asked me what I was after? I'm askin' you the same question."

"Sure you're ready for my answer?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright. I want a home. I want a man that makes me laugh. And lots of kids. I want to help teach them to ride and care for their animals. I want a man who loves me for what I am, not for what he wants to make me into. I want somebody to sit on the porch and rock with when I'm old. I want my man to know he can get up and go when he feels the need to. And I want to love him in spite of that."

I took her face in my hands and kissed her mouth, her eyes, her cheeks, her forehead. I couldn't stop kissing her, and I didn't want to. And she kissed me right back, and it was like lightning running through my veins, and I knew. At that exact moment, I knew. I was never gonna let this woman go.


	16. The Question

Chapter 15 – The Question

Two days later Evy was down at the corral with Clint teaching Jessica Dooley the finer points of riding when I wandered into Billy's study. I'd taught him Maverick Solitaire, and he'd become obsessed with it. "Still at it, huh?" I asked him as I sat next to where he had the cards laid out on the desk.

"It's fascinating," he commented back, and I couldn't help but chuckle. That's just about everyone's reaction to the game. "Where's Evy this morning?"

"Giving Jessica Dooley a lesson," I told him. "You got a few minutes that we can talk?"

He glanced up with a worried look on his face. "Uh-oh, what did I do now?"

"No, nothin'. I just wondered how you were feelin'."

"Not too bad these last few days. Watchin' you and Evy work together around here's taken practically all the stress outta my life. Somethin' on your mind?"

Actually, there was, and I wasn't quite sure how to approach it. "Billy, I wanna ask you . . . "

We sat there for two or three minutes while I tried to find the right way to say it. Finally Billy raised his head and laughed. "Geez, Bart, I've never heard you at a loss for words before. You'd think you were gonna ask me if you could marry Evy or somethin'."

I almost choked. He'd hit the nail right on the head and didn't even know it. "I was, Billy. That's exactly what I was tryin' to get up the nerve to ask you."

He stopped playing Solitaire and put the cards down. "Don't joke about a thing like that, huh?"

I wondered if I looked as panicky as I felt. "I'm not jokin', Billy, I want to marry your daughter."

"You . . . you what? . . . you do? Since when?"

I wrung my hands and cleared my throat. This wasn't as easy as it sounded. "For a while now."

"You're serious? You wanna marry my girl?"

"I'm serious."

"Well, I'll be . . . Yes, sure, certainly, have you asked her yet?"

I laughed with relief. "No, not till you said yes."

"Then whatta ya doin' here? Go ask her, for heaven's sake!"

One hurdle down, one to go. Of course I didn't just run to the corral and say, "Oh, Evy, by the way . . ." Nope, it was Saturday and I wanted it to be special, so I asked Tenora to fix us another outdoors supper and pack a special bottle of wine I'd bought for the occasion. No, this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision; I'd actually thought about it for several days before I started planning it. Eventually, I did wander down to see just what 'my' girl was up to, and I found her just finishing the lesson with Jessica.

"You have plans for tonight?" I asked casually.

"I don't know," she answered. "Depends on what the offer is."

"Supper up on the hill. With a bottle of wine this time. And a little . . . "

"A little what?" she asked me.

"A little wait-and-see," I answered.

"Do I have to dress up?"

"The buck-naked offer still stands." I, of course, had a big grin on my face when I told her that.

"I bet it does," she replied. "What time?"

"Oh, sevenish. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes," she told me. "I'm going to take a bath now. See that you don't disturb me."

I grabbed for her but she scooted out of my way. "I can come bathe with you," I volunteered.

"No, no, no. That wouldn't do."

"It would do me just fine," I told her, knowing it was never going to happen.

"I'm sure it would, and it's highly inappropriate, Mr. Maverick."

"Then, Miss Sunday, until seven o'clock?"

"Until seven." I stood there for a few minutes, leaning against the corral fence, and watched her walk back to the house. Clint came over to stand with me.

"You've had quite an effect on that filly," he told me.

"She's had quite an effect on me."

"I can see that," he answered, laughing. "You gonna marry the girl?"

I never was a good liar. "If she'll have me."

"Oh, she'll have you, all right." He looked pleased as he stood there across the fence from me. 'She can't talk about much else but you. You gonna try to get married before Billy . . . "

"I don't know, Clint. It depends on how Evy feels. We'll see if I can convince her it's better to do it sooner rather than later. I'm sure she'd rather her father be there, so it shouldn't take too much convincin'."

"When you askin' her?"

"Tonight, if everything goes right."

"It will. Good luck, Mr. Maverick," and he stuck out his hand to shake mine.

"Clint." I'd already asked him twice to call me Bart.

"Good luck, Bart."

We shook, and I went through the gate and the corral and headed for the barn. I thought it was about time I gave Noble some attention.

XXXXXXXX

We spread the blanket in a different spot this time, and Evy got the food out as I opened and poured the wine. "Aren't you hungry?" she asked me as I convinced her to let the food wait a bit, and have some of her wine before dinner.

"I am, but it's not goin' anywhere," I told her. "Here, come sit by me and have a drink. We've got the whole night ahead of us."

"Not unless you're figuring on sleeping on the ground on a blanket," she replied. She finally leaned back against me and sipped her wine, and I heard her sigh.

"Somethin' wrong?" I asked.

"Dad was just . . . odd. Like he knew some big secret that I didn't. Have you talked to him recently? I wonder if he's feeling alright?"

"I talked to him this mornin', right before I came to see you, as a matter of fact. He was feelin' fine then. Maybe he just has somethin' on his mind."

"You don't suppose . . . you don't suppose his heart's bothering him, do you?"

I put my hand under her chin and turned her head to face me. "His heart's not botherin' him, Evy."

"Then what is it? I need to know if he's alright, Bart."

"Honey, he's fine. I know what's on his mind, and it's not his heart. It's yours."

"Mine? My what? What are you talking about?"

How did I get her back on track? Since I still had her chin in my hand, I tilted her face up and kissed her. That stopped her for a minute, and she looked up at me and smiled. "Was that meant as a distraction? Because if it was, it's working."

"It was meant to get your attention," I told her, and then kissed her again. "I have somethin' I wanna ask you."

"I will not finish supper buck naked," she replied. "No matter how many times you ask."

"Not even if I asked you to marry me first?"

That stopped her in her tracks. "What?"

"Evelyn Sunday, will you marry me?"

She sat there and stared at me. I didn't know what she was thinking, or what she was feeling, and I needed her to say something – anything. Well, almost anything. I didn't need for her to say no. "Are you serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about somethin' like that," I told her. She kept sitting there and staring, without saying a word. I couldn't take much more of the silence when I finally heard her say something, but it was so soft and quiet I wasn't sure what it was. "Evy?" I finally asked.

"Yes . . . yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" And before I could do anything else her arms were around my neck and she was kissing me, as fervently as she possibly could. I dropped my wine glass to the ground and pulled her into me, engulfing her completely in my arms and kissing her right back. At first our kisses were sweet and tender, loving and gentle, but they quickly gained in ardor until we were both lying on the blanket wrapped up tightly in each other's arms.

I finally pulled away, breathing so hard I couldn't catch my breath. 'Stop, Evy, stop," I murmured. "We have to stop while we still can."

"Don't . . . want . . . to stop," was the reply I got. I sat up reluctantly, before everything went too far and there was no turning back. She reached up with her right hand and pulled me back down to her, and whispered in my ear, "I love you. Don't leave."

And I didn't.


	17. A Different Time and Place

Chapter 16 – A Different Time and Place

I sat there by his bed, as I had for so many days, and watched my brother slowly dying. The only thing I could say to him was, "I love you. Don't leave."

When Bart and I left Tucson, he'd just been shot by Eamon Garrity and was in no shape to ride. But because of everything that happened while we'd been there, Bart couldn't stand to stay and give his shoulder time to heal. So we set out for Texas that very day, on horseback, willing to make the best of a bad situation.

The further we rode the more apparent it became that Bart was in pain; an infection had probably set in. I tried to convince him to stop in one place for a few days but he'd have none of it; said he needed to be home. By the time we got to Little Bend he had a raging fever and Pappy immediately sent for the doctor. Even though the last person I wanted to see was Simon Petry, I knew that he was one of the best doctor's around. He was the one that had gotten Pappy through pneumonia, after all.

I hadn't seen Simon since . . . well, the whole episode with him and Althea, and I tried to stay downstairs while he treated my brother. Finally I couldn't any longer. Simon was just finishing when I walked into Bart's bedroom, and the first expression on his face was one of friendly greeting. That changed quickly to sober resolve when he saw it was me.

"Simon, how is he?"

"I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, Bret. He's in bad shape. Why did he refuse to stop on the way here?"

"Why else, Simon? A woman. How bad?"

"Bad enough that if it was in an arm or a leg I'd want to amputate. But in his shoulder? Not much we can do but ride it out. And pray. I cleaned it up as best I could. Try to keep him comfortable, and get water down him. I'll stop back tonight, on the way home."

On the way home to Althea Taylor's, he meant. Or should I say Althea Petry's? They'd gotten married not long after I left Little Bend; that was just a fact of life. Heard a rumor that they'd had a baby, but I didn't know if it was true and I wasn't gonna ask. "Can he beat this?" I questioned, knowing that Simon would give me an honest answer.

"I don't know, Bret. I honestly don't. If it was anybody besides a Maverick, I'd say no. But you are the hardest bunch in the world to kill, so . . . anything's possible."

"Thanks, Simon." It was hard to stay mad at somebody you've known practically your entire life, even if that someone had stolen the woman you loved right out from under your nose. Besides, it was over and done with, and we needed Simon to be paying attention to Bart and not worrying about any retribution I might be lookin' for. So I stuck out my hand to shake Simon's, and breathed a sigh of . . . not relief, but acceptance. It was what it was, and I wouldn't change it now even if I could.

Pappy hurried in as soon as Simon left. "As bad as we thought?" he asked.

"Worse. Odds ain't in his favor, Pappy."

"What can we do?"

"Wait." That was the only thing I could foresee; wait to see if my kid brother could lick this thing and come back to us, or if we were gonna lose him to an Irishman's bullet.

XXXXXXXX

Six days later we were still waiting. He hadn't gotten any better, and on occasion he most certainly appeared to be worse. At times he was still and quiet, and I kept wiping him down to cool him off from the fever that raged inside him. At other times he was restless and active, thrashing about and mumbling about 'Evy' and 'Billy.'

I had no clue if they were real people, folks that he knew, or if they lived in his imagination. If they existed only in his unconscious mind there was quite an epic tale being told in there, and I didn't care which it was. As long as he kept fighting, and kept breathing.

Simon came twice a day and was amazed at Bart's stubbornness. On the morning of the seventh day I could see the sadness and despair in his eyes, and I feared the end was near. "I don't know what else to do for him," the doctor announced as he finished up with his treatment. "He's made no progress at all. If something doesn't change soon . . . "

"Don't quit on him, Simon," Pappy pleaded. "Him and Bret, they're all I've got. I need both my boys."

Simon reached over and patted my father's arm. "I know, Beauregard. I won't, I promise." Then he turned back to me. "Tell me about this place he keeps talking about."

So I described to Simon everything I could remember that Bart had spoken of the last week. Evy, Billy, Aiden, a sheriff named Hamilton, Las Cruces, and a place called Valpariso Road. "Sounds like he's got a whole world in there. Maybe that's what's going on, and for some reason he doesn't want to leave."

If it was anybody but my brother, I might think that the doctor was the crazy one. But knowing Bart like I do, I suspected that Simon might be right. And if he was . . . "I can tell you why, Simon. From everything I've heard, her name's Evy. And he's fallen in love with her."

"Bart always did have a vivid imagination," Pappy admitted.

"There's gotta be some way to bring him back," Simon said.

"He's still fightin' the infection?" I asked.

"So far," Simon admitted.

"Then maybe that's the best place he can be. Maybe that's his way of tryin' to stay alive."

Glad it was Simon I'd just said that to, and not some doctor that hadn't known my brother his whole life. He stood there and thought for a minute, and finally nodded his head. "Maybe you're right. As long as he holds his own . . . " He was quiet for a bit, and then he added, "I'll be by tonight. Try talking to him, see if you can do anything to help. Something's got to change soon, or . . . "

I knew what Simon feared. That Bart would choose to lose the fight, to give up and stay wherever he was in his head, to let the infection that threatened him win so that he didn't have to come back to a painful reality, at best. And I was determined not to let that happen.

After Simon was gone, Pappy and I sat there, at his youngest son's bedside, and talked to Bart. One thing after another, we told stories and tales from our lives, trying to reach into his unconscious mind and pull him back into the real world. I even reminded him what he'd told me about his stay in Mexico right after his wife died, and how he'd tried to kill himself one night. Pappy, bless his heart, sat and listened and never said a word. Matter of fact there was no reaction at all, save for the lone tear I saw slip down his cheek as I tried to remind Bart how happy he was with the fact that he'd lived, against his better judgment that night.

Uncle Ben spent a while with us, recalling the 'burning chicken' incident, the one story that always made Bart groan when I told it. My brother seemed to stay a little calmer, and not so restless while Ben told the tale of what happened when we were all kids and tried to have fried chicken by setting one on fire. Lilly Mae brought us lunch and tried to get me and Pappy to eat something, but neither of us was real interested in food. Bart seemed to respond best to my voice, and I rattled off every obscure story I could think of about the places we'd been and the things we'd seen. Finally right before five o'clock I couldn't talk anymore, and that's when I sat by his bed and simply told him, "I love you. Don't leave."

He'd been tossing and turning up to that point, but my words seemed, at last, to calm him down. He moaned softly, and I stood up and leaned over him, trying to will him awake. I had no idea that I was crying until I saw a teardrop fall on his face, and he actually flinched. It was the first time in days he'd responded to anything that I said or did, and I almost shouted for joy. My brother was still alive in there somewhere, and that meant we had a chance to save him.


	18. Love and Loss

Chapter 17 – Love and Loss

I woke up when it felt like something fell on my face. I reached up to brush it away, but there was nothing there. I was disoriented for a minute and wasn't quite sure where I was before it finally came to me. I was at the Sunday Ranch, in bed, and Evy Sunday was lying in my arms sound asleep. I wondered if last night had all been a dream until I saw most of her clothes scattered on the floor next to the bed and realized I'd finally gotten what I'd teased her about, the girl I loved in my arms, buck naked.

"Evy, Evy honey, wake up. You gotta get dressed and go." I shook her gently and watched those luxurious black eyes open slowly, while the fire returned to them as she stared up at me.

"Is it morning already?" she murmured, and I nodded back.

"Yes it is, and you have to get to your room. So your father doesn't kill me."

She giggled softly. "That's alright, we're getting married, remember?"

"I still think he'd kill me," I told her, "no matter what we do now." I gathered her close to me and kissed her, luxuriating in the fact that not only had I finally gotten to make love to her, I'd gotten to hold her next to me the entire night. She was mine, and I was hers, and that's the way I intended it to stay. So the last thing I wanted was for Billy to find us together before we were actually husband and wife.

"Alright, but come here first," and she drew my head down to hers and began kissing me. I, of course, resisted for about half a second and then thoughts of her getting dressed and leaving my bed were replaced by other, more salacious thoughts. We were well on our way to fulfilling more of my fantasies when I heard something out in the hall and abruptly pulled back.

"Shhhhh," I told her and listened carefully. It definitely sounded like footsteps, but far too dainty to be Billy's. It must be Tenora, and I breathed easier for a second or two. "Get up and git," I pleaded with her, and slapped her tenderly on the bottom as she scrambled out of bed and into her clothes. "I'll be out as soon as I'm dressed."

She leaned over the bed quickly and gave me another kiss, then snuck soundlessly out the door. I crawled out behind her, rather naked myself, and quickly got dressed. Soon as I got a shirt on I washed my face and shaved, then left my room just in time to almost go crashing into Billy in the hall. He looked at me hopefully, and I just smiled and nodded. "She said yes, didn't she?" he asked, and I nodded again. "Best news I've heard in years," he pronounced, and draped his arm across my shoulders. "Now I can call you son and not feel guilty about it."

We walked two more feet down the hall and Evy came out of her room. There was something different about her; a grace and polish that hadn't been there before, and I wondered if Billy noticed the change. I did, but I was definitely prejudiced. She smiled, and I smiled right back at her, and it wouldn't take a genius to see that we were in love. Billy threw his arms open wide and Evy ran to him, and they hugged each other tightly. "Happy?" he asked her, and she nodded her head, much as I had just done.

"Immeasurably," she answered, following us into the kitchen.

I wish I could say the same. Oh, I was plenty happy about the events of last night, particularly after we returned to the house, but that nagging feeling that somebody or something was trying to talk to me was back. I felt like I was being watched, and I didn't know why. Once again I figured the best thing to do was ignore it, and I refocused my attention on Evy. She was answering a question from her father. "No, dad, we didn't talk about a date. Did we, Bart?"

"No, Evy, but I think it should be soon. Given the circumstances, that is. How about it?"

"Two weeks?" she asked. "I'll need that long to get everything squared away with the church."

"I've got an idea," Billy interjected. "Why don't we have the wedding here? We've certainly got the room. And it wouldn't take us two weeks to get ready."

"That sounds like a good idea," I told them both.

"What's the matter, boy? You in a hurry or somethin'?" Billy asked, laughing the whole time.

"Yes, I am." I grabbed Evy by the hand and pulled her over to me for a kiss. "I'm in a big hurry. I don't wanna give your daughter time to change her mind."

"I don't think there's too much chance of that," my father-in-law to be responded.

"Not now," Evy laughed. "I've got my man and I'm keeping him." I had her wrapped up in my arms by this time. My biggest concern was Billy, and how he was feeling at that point.

"What do you think, Tenora? Can we be ready in a week?" Evy turned to the housekeeper.

"Si, Señorita, we can be ready," Tenora grinned as she poured coffee for everyone. "The food, the decorations, that is no problem. What about your dress?"

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that."

"You can always get married buck naked," I suggested. Evy reached over and hit me in the arm. "What, it was only a suggestion!"

"We can drive into Las Cruces and see if there's something we can alter. Or there's always – what about Mama's wedding dress, Pa?'

Something dark and ugly went skidding wildly across Billy's face. "She didn't keep it, Evy."

"Alright. Then Las Cruces it is. Tenora, I'll help you with the dishes and we can go right after breakfast."

"And what would you like me to do?" I asked seriously.

"Nothing. Stay here and plot and plan with my father. Continue your billiard's lessons. Or do you want to go through married life losing to your wife?"

"No, ma'am, I do not. You up for it, Billy?"

"Sure, Bart. Soon as the ladies are gone. Some things we should discuss, anyway."

XXXXXXXX

An hour later Billy and I were in the study and he was trying his best to continue my education in the art of billiards. I was getting better, but it would take some practice before I could even begin to compete with Evy. "What'd you wanna talk about, Billy?" I asked him after I'd actually made a shot.

"Okay, that was good, but next time keep your elbow in, closer to your body." He paused to change subjects, then continued. "I want you two to have my bedroom. I'll take one of yours. I ain't needed that much space for a long time. Married couple should have the big room. Far as I'm concerned Evy can move her things in there right now and you can join her soons the weddin's over. That alright by you?"

"Whatever Evy wants is fine by me," I told him. "But tell me somethin', would ya?"

"If I can."

"Did Barbara Jean really get rid of her weddin' dress?"

Billy looked a little ashamed. "No, but I did, soon as we buried her. I didn't want nothin' left of hers to remind me. I'm sorry, for Evy's sake, but I don't think I coulda stood to look at it again."

I nodded. "Alright, I just wondered. I think Eveyln'll be happier with her own dress, anyway. I gotta figure out what to do for a weddin' ring. You got any ideas?"

"Might wanna see Milt at the general store. He used to have some real pretty rings. Your Ma didn't have one?"

"Nope. Pappy never bought her one. I want my wife to have a ring. I don't want any doubt in anybody's mind bout whether she's married or not."

"So, you wanna go to Las Cruces and see what's there after the ladies get back?"

"Sounds like a good idea. Evy have a ring that we can take with us to get the size right?" I hadn't seen her wear any kind of ring, but that didn't mean she didn't have one.

Billy couldn't answer that. We'd just have to wait and see.

I spent the rest of the morning learning the finer points of billiards. Billy seemed pleased with my progress, and I felt like I'd done pretty well. It was never gonna replace poker, but it would be a nice little diversion that Evy and I could share.

It was early afternoon when the buggy returned, and I knew right away that something wasn't right. Evy came in the front door slowly, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She came straight to me and held on tightly until Billy appeared, then transferred herself to her father. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked her, and she began crying again.

"Mr. Billy," Tenora came through the door not too far behind Evy, "it's Mr. Aiden. He missed a meeting this morning and Sheriff Rose went to his house to check on him. He's dead, Mr. Billy. Mr. Aiden is dead."


	19. One Way or Another

Chapter 18 – One Way or Another

I wasn't shocked that Aiden was gone, given what he'd told me last week, but Billy certainly was. Was it possible that Carmichael hadn't told his best friend, fearing what the shock could do to him? Wasn't this every bit as bad?

I left the house and walked to the barn. I didn't belong in there right now; I'd only known Aiden for a short period. I saddled Noble and rode him out of the barn; through the corral and down Valpariso Road. Everything was happening so fast. I'd wandered into this town on pure instinct, now I was preparing to make it my home. Everyone I'd met in the last few weeks had become part of my world, but I wasn't entirely sure I was part of theirs. I wanted to see Pappy; I needed to see my brother. I was on the verge of changing my entire life around, and I hadn't spoken to either one of them about it. Was I doing the right thing?

As I rode, I thought about Evelyn Sunday. How warm and alive she was; how good it felt to hold her in my arms and hear her breathing next to me. I brought Noble to a halt and closed my eyes. I could smell her hair and taste her lips, feel her heart beating against my chest. I hadn't been away from her for ten minutes, but it seemed like days. She had a hold over me that I never expected any woman to have. And yet . . . and yet there was an odd emptiness when I was away from her, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Almost like she wasn't real. I opened my eyes and Noble snorted, not sure of what we were doing just standing there. Then we started off again, and my hesitation and doubts vanished. I loved her; I was sure of that. And I didn't want to be without her.

Down the road Noble went, towards the far end of the ranch. I thought about all the changes the gelding and I had been through; all the trials and tribulations. He seemed peaceful and placid right now, like there was absolutely nothing bothering him. I longed to have that feeling myself. Why didn't I?

We stayed out there for over an hour, which probably doesn't seem like a lot of time; save for sleeping, it was the longest I'd been alone for quite a while. When I approached the house I could see several horses tied out front. It looked like Billy's entourage had come to grieve with and console him. I found Evy sitting in the barn, next to her mare. She looked up but didn't brighten up when she heard me. "Where'd you go?" she asked me, and I really couldn't tell her.

"Just out. I thought you all needed some time without me there."

"Why? You knew Aiden as well as we did."

I shook my head. Did she really believe what she'd just said? "I didn't know Aiden at all."

"He told you the truth about my mother and father, didn't he?"

Something was wrong here. Did Evy really know what had happened that night or was she trying to get me to tell her? According to Aiden, she hadn't seen him shoot her mother. So I played Bart Maverick dumb. "What are you talkin' about, woman?"

"I might have been ten years old, but I wasn't stupid, Bart. I knew that Mama was spending time with Brice when she shouldn't have. And I was there when Aiden killed him, but it was to save Pa and me. Pa got me out of there and there were two more gunshots, so I could figure out what happened."

"Why didn't you say anything, Evy? Billy thinks he killed her. Why have you let him believe . . . "

She stood up then and put her arms around me. "I tried. I tried to convince Daddy he was innocent. Every time I tried to talk to him, he'd get upset and start to cry . . . so I let it go. Poor Aiden, I think he tried to tell Pa the truth, too. I let Aiden believe . . . that I didn't know what happened. It was easier on him that way."

"And your anger all those years?"

She sighed and held on to me tighter. "I was angry at Mama. For what she'd done, for what she tried to do, to Pa . . . and me. And for what Aiden went through to protect us. And I'm sorry that Aiden is gone. He was a good friend to Pa, and a good man. Promise me something, Bart."

I had my arms wrapped around her now, holding her against me. Her heart was pounding, beating like a racehorse. "Promise me that if anything ever happens between us . . . promise me you'll always tell me the truth. No matter what it is. Even if you have to tell me that you don't love me anymore. Please."

I kissed the top of her head. "I promise, Evy. I won't lie to you." While I was still holding her she burst into tears, and I let her cry her eyes out. I got my handkerchief from my coat pocket and dried her face, then gave it to her to hold onto. When she'd stopped, I held her at arm's length and looked once again into those black, black eyes. "You alright now?" She nodded and tried to smile for me. "Go into town with me tomorrow."

"What for?" she asked me, a slight tremor in her voice.

"Because I want to buy you a wedding ring. One that fits. Will you do that for me?"

She nodded again, and this time really did smile. "Alright."

"Did Aiden have any family here?"

"No, just friends. Like Pa. Guess he'll need our help, won't he?"

"Yes, he will. Let's go see what we can do for him now, shall we?"

And we walked back inside, arm in arm, to lend whatever assistance we could.

XXXXXXXX

The service for Aiden Carmichael was far from small, but it was peaceful and respectful, just like the man himself had been. Billy gave the eulogy, and Reverend Wilcox, for once, delivered a heartfelt sermon. The choir sang 'Amazing Grace' at the church, and a quieter song I didn't know at the graveyard. I helped carry the casket, at Billy's request, and Evy and I sat in the buggy and waited for her father at the edge of the cemetery. Billy Sunday was the last one to leave – he stood at the gravesite for long, silent minutes, bidding goodbye to his best friend. Once Billy had climbed in with us, I drove us home. Evy and I had decided to wait one more day before we went to buy a ring, and I turned the rig over to Clint when we got back to the ranch. Tenora had coffee ready for us, and the three of us sat without a sound in the main room, contemplating all manner of things. Finally I asked, "What about Aiden's ranch? Did he leave a will?"

"He did," Billy replied. "He has a son in St. Louis. He left everything to Joseph."

"I didn't know he was ever married."

"His wife died a long time ago. Joseph and his family live in St. Louis. He was supposed to come out to visit in the fall last year, but the baby got sick and they couldn't make the trip. They're comin' out to live on the ranch."

"This'll be quite a change from St. Louis," Evy commented.

"Yes, it will," Billy replied. "But that's what Aiden wanted, and Joseph's a good boy. Hell, he's a man. More new blood here in Las Cruces." Billy finally had enough of the coffee, and Evy fetched his bottle of bourbon for him. As usual, I passed, but Evy joined him in a small glass. "I thought you two were goin' lookin' for a ring."

"We decided to wait another day," I answered, and Evy nodded.

"Out of respect," she added.

"Did you get the dress taken care of?" Billy asked.

"We did, I'm happy to say. I'm just sorry that Aiden won't be there to see us married."

"Oh, I think he'll be there," Billy suggested, and Evy and I glanced at each other and smiled.

"One way or another," I added.


	20. Life in Las Cruces

Chapter 19 – Life in Las Cruces

Billy made the suggestion to Evy about switching bedrooms with her, and she agreed. So we spent the evening swapping rooms, laughing and giggling about the bedroom that would be ours after the coming wedding. "Do you want anything special in here?" Evy asked me, and my answer was simple.

"You and a bed."

"Besides that?"

"Can't think of anything. Got everything else – a dresser, a mirror, and a closet. And a chair. You and the bed are all I need. Well, I could live without the bed."

Something flashed through my mind; a picture of Bret sleeping on the floor next to me in bed. I shook my head but the picture never moved, and it didn't look like something I'd seen before. It was almost as if I was seeing it right here, right now. And then it was gone. Wedding day jitters, I wondered?

Both of us were up early the next morning, and we took the buggy into town. We stopped at Sugar's for breakfast and sat at a table with Jancy to take care of us. She was sad at first but brightened when she saw us. "Congratulations are in order, I understand!"

"Yes, thank you," Evy told her. "We would wait, but . . . "

"I don't think Aiden would want us to," I interjected.

Jancy nodded as she poured coffee. "No, I don't think he would, either. Sugar's at Sam Bates office this morning, signing some papers. Did you know Aiden was an investor here?"

Evy shook her head. "It doesn't surprise me, though. Aiden liked to do whatever he could to help his friends."

We had just ordered and were drinking coffee when Sugar arrived back at the café. She stopped by our table with the same message of congratulations, but it was apparent that she'd been crying. "What did Mr. Bates do now?" I asked her.

"It wasn't Sam, it was Aiden. His will paid off my obligation to his estate. I own Sugar's free and clear. I never expected anything like that." She turned to Evy before she left for the back room. "He told me to tell you that Aiden left you something, too. Go see Sam."

"I wonder what that's all about?" My bride-to-be questioned once Sugar was gone.

"Don't know. Do you want me to go with you?"

She shook her head. "You don't have to. I know that you and Sam didn't see eye-to-eye."

I picked up her hand and kissed it. "Maybe I better go, before he tries to talk you out of marrying me."

Evy laughed, genuinely amused by what I'd just said. "Like that could ever happen."

So, as soon as breakfast was over, we walked to Sam Bates office. It seems that Aiden had left Evy a picture of her family, taken not long after she was born, and before Brice McNair entered her mother's life. He'd taken it from the house the night Barbara Jean was killed, thinking that Billy would probably destroy it and wanting to give Evy a chance to decide for herself. As it turned out she was glad to have it, as it dated from a time before the rot had set into the Sunday's marriage.

From there we went to Milt Downey's General Store. Milt still had some rings for sale, but he kept them in the safe at the Las Cruces Bank and Trust, and he walked over there with us to see what was available. John Mueller brought them out from the bank vault and there was one that caught my eye, a solid gold band with some intricate designs 'carved' into it. Evy seemed to like that one, too, and we were in luck. It fit perfectly.

"What about you?" Evy asked, and I had no objections, but Milt didn't have anything that would fit me. "When we go to Santa Fe?"

"Sounds good to me," I told her, and we went back with Milt to the store and I bought Evy's ring. We were one step closer to getting married.

XXXXXXXX

 _It was the oddest feeling I'd ever had. I could see myself, lying in bed in Uncle Ben's house, but I was still as could be. Pappy sat at my bedside, his hands clasping one of mine, and there was the most pitiful look on his face. Bret stood right behind him, his hands resting on Pappy's shoulders, his eyes red and swollen. Lily Mae was in the doorway, with her arms wrapped around Uncle Ben, and I could hear Beau running down the hall._

 _Simon Petry was on the other side of the bed, trying to listen for a heartbeat, but he didn't seem to be able to find one. From all appearances, I was dead. Simon looked across the bed, first at Pappy, then Bret, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, he's gone," he told my family. Pappy slumped forward, and the only thing that held him up was Bret's hands on his shoulders._

" _No, Simon! You promised!" It was Pappy's voice, desperate and strangled sounding, and Bret led our father away from the scene. Beau let out a groan from the hallway, and I heard him gasp, "Bart, No! You can't!" Bret took Pappy to Lily Mae, who pulled him in carefully, holding up both of the older Mavericks._

 _My brother rushed back to the bedside and gathered my body into his arms, rocking what was left of me and crooning to me, "Come back, little brother. You have to come back." Simon reached over to pry him away from me, but Bret wouldn't turn loose. The doctor got the strangest look on his face, and finally told Bret, "Put him down; I think he's breathing."_

 _Bret obeyed Simon immediately. Even from where I was I could see the slow rise and fall of my chest; Simon was correct. I was once again breathing. "What . . . happened?" my brother whispered, and Simon shook his head._

" _I don't know, Bret. He was gone; there was no pulse, no heartbeat. No breath at all. And now . . . " Simon listened for a minute, took my pulse, and smiled. "Whatever caused it, he's alive."_

I felt the dream start to fade and heard Evy's voice calling me. "Bart, honey, wake up. We're getting married today. Come on, sleepyhead, it's time to get out of bed."

I practically jumped out of bed, threw on my pants and flung open the door. There she stood, my almost-bride, the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and I grabbed her and wrapped her in my arms, pulling her close against my bare chest. Something was wrong – something was terribly wrong, and I had no idea what it was. I've had a lot of strange dreams in my life, but none of them had ever frightened me like this one did. I could see everything I wanted, everything that was right in my grasp, begin to slip away from me. My friends, the ranch, Valpariso Road, Las Cruces itself, but most of all the woman I loved, sliding right through my fingers and out into the ether, where no matter what I did I couldn't keep hold of it. Which was reality, and which was fantasy? Was I living in Las Cruces with the Sunday family, ready to settle down and become a husband and someday a father? Or was I lying in bed in Little Bend, Texas, trying desperately not to die, with my family all around me?

I didn't know anymore, but the thought that I might lose everything, whether it was in Las Cruces or Little Bend, terrified me. One of these was real; the other one not. If I had to choose, which one would I hold onto?

"What's wrong?" Evy asked me. "You're . . . you're shaking."

"Nightmare," I told her. "It'll pass."

"You're alright? Are you sure about this? You still want to get married, don't you?" I kissed her then, long and slow and passionate, and she smiled back at me. "Good answer."

"Yes, I still want to get married. I can't wait to get married. I love you, and nothin's gonna change that. Now, let me put a shirt on, so I can come out and not scare Tenora to death. I need breakfast. A man can't get hitched on an empty stomach." Whatever had been hovering over my head was gone – I'd made my decision. This was my reality, my life. I was staying right in Las Cruses, where I belonged.


	21. The Quick and the Dead

Chapter 20 – The Quick and the Dead

Bart was lying in bed in Uncle Ben's house, still as he could be. Pappy was sitting in a chair at his bedside, desperately clutching Bart's right hand, and I'd never seen my father look that distraught in his life, not even the night he went looking for his guns after Momma died. I stood right behind him, my hands on his shoulders, and my eyes hurt. My whole head hurt from crying, and I didn't care who knew it. Lily Mae was leaning up against the door with her arms wrapped around Uncle Ben, and I heard Beau run down the hall.

Simon Petry was on the opposite side of the bed, listening for a heartbeat, but he couldn't seem to find one. Then he checked Bart's neck looking for a pulse, but he couldn't find one of those, either. From all indications, my brother was dead. Simon stared across the bed, first at Pappy, then at me, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, he's gone," he told us. Pappy slumped and I grabbed him before he could topple out of the chair; he let out a wail that I'd only heard once before in my life.

"No, Simon! You promised!" It was Pappy, choked and frantic sounding, and I got him out of his seat and over to Lily Mae, who somehow managed to keep both of the older Mavericks upright. Beau moaned loudly from the hallway, and I heard him gasp for air and then sob, "Bart, no! You can't!"

I hurried back to the bedside and gathered Bart into my arms, rocking what was left of him and crooning sadly, "Come back, little brother. You have to come back." Simon reached over to pry me away from Bart, but I wouldn't turn loose. I couldn't turn loose. He. Wasn't. Dead. Simon got the strangest look on his face, and finally murmured, "Put him down Bret; I think he's breathing."

I obeyed Simon immediately. Sitting in the chair, I could see the slow rise and fall of Bart's chest; Simon was right. Something had changed, Bart was breathing again. "What . . . happened?" I whispered, and Simon just shook his head.

"I don't know, Bret. He was gone; there was no pulse, no heartbeat. No breath at all. And now . . . " Simon listened for a minute, took my brother's pulse, and smiled. "I don't know what caused it, but he's alive."

I choked out a single sob, and before I could even sit up straight Pappy had his arms around my neck, crying, laughing, coughing and choking, all at the same time. I heard something hit the floor and it was followed by Lily Mae's voice. "It's Beau. He's fainted."

"Alright, I need everybody out for a minute. I have to check some things. Bret, you stay in case I have to turn him over."

Pappy was practically jumping up and down, he was so happy. He had a death grip on Uncle Ben, and the two of them helped Beau up from the floor, where he'd dropped. All three then embraced Lily Mae, with a grin a mile wide on her face. I closed the door and turned to Simon. "What the hell happened, Simon? I saw what you saw. He wasn't breathin'. Then all of a sudden he was again. What started him off?"

Simon was too busy checking Bart over from top to bottom to answer me at that exact moment. It was almost another five minutes before he was willing to take the time to stop and look at me, across the bed where I stood, holding the hand of my temporarily dead brother. "I can't give you an answer that will make any sense, Bret. There's no reason in the world for him to be alive just now. His heart stopped; his breathing, too. He was gone – and then he wasn't."

Without warning, there was a moan from the man in the bed. Simon was there in an instant, listening to his heart, taking his pulse, opening his eyelids to look at him. "Damnedest thing I've ever seen. He feels cooler, too. Maybe the fever's broken. If it is . . . "

"He might make it?" I asked, daring to hope against hope.

"He just might at that."

XXXXXXXX

Later that night Bart was still breathing, but he'd shown no other signs of life. According to Simon his temperature had dropped a degree, but that was about all. Oh, and he wasn't thrashing around and restless like he'd been before. Instructions hadn't changed – keep him cool, try to get him to drink water, and stay with him at all times. Simon had gone home hours ago, back to his wife and (I learned later) his child. Lily Mae had threatened murder and mayhem if Ben and Pappy didn't get some rest, so I was the designated watcher that night.

I sat with him and talked to him, much like I had after he was pistol whipped in Silver Creek. I reminded him of all the things we did when we were young, and all the scrapes and troubles we'd gotten into as we got older. I kept praying there would be some sign that he was in there, and heard me, but there was none. It was around three the next morning when I couldn't hold my head up anymore, and made a bed on the floor beside him. I slept two or three hours, just enough to stay awake a while longer, and resumed my spot in the chair next to his bed. I laid my head down on the bed with my hands clasped in front of me, and prayed.

Now I don't pretend that I'm religious. I guarantee you that Bart's read a lot more of the Bible than I have. But I literally begged for my brother's life that night, offering my own in return if that's what God wanted from me. I'd have said or done anything to keep Bart alive, and what I promised wasn't offered idly; I would do whatever it took to seal the bargain. Somehow I drifted back to sleep, and that's when I saw him – _Bart sittin' in a rockin' chair, on somebody's front porch, with an empty seat next to him. He looked good, healthy and fit, tanned and happy. He was smokin' a cigar and holding a gold ring in his hand. I thought at first it was his pinky ring, but then I noticed he had that on, and I got a closer look at the one he held._

 _It was a band with some interesting carvings in it, and it was so small that it had to be a woman's ring. I watched him examine it for a minute or so, and then I walked over and took the seat next to him. He seemed to know I was there, but not who I was. "Mighty pretty ring," I told him._

" _Thanks," he said. "It's for Evy. We're gettin' married today."_

 _Evy. The name I'd heard him use in his dreams, nightmares, hallucinations, or whatever you wanted to call what he'd been through in the past week. "Oh. Congratulations. She's the right one, huh?"_

" _Yeah," he answered me. "I've looked for her my whole life. I ain't lettin' her go now, no matter . . . "_

' _No matter what?' I thought. Had Bart heard me, calling him to come back, begging him to stay with us rather than in the world his mind had created? "There's people that need you back there in Texas, ya know."_

" _Naw, they can get along just fine without me. Evy needs me here. I love her, and I want to be with her. There's no one else in the world like her."_

" _Maybe, maybe not. What about your father and your brother?"_

 _He kept turning the ring around and around in his fingers the whole time we talked. "They've got each other. They really don't need me, ya know."_

 _I reached over and laid my hand on his arm. "Yes, they do, son. They need you somethin' fierce. They ain't gonna survive without you."_

 _He turned his gaze towards me for the first time. "Who are you? Do I know you?"_

" _Your brother sent me. He sent me to tell you he doesn't want to be alone in this world, and that's what he'll be if you leave him and stay with Evy."_

" _But I . . . I can't leave now. I love her. I need to be with her."_

" _She'll be just fine without you, Bart."_

 _He looked into my eyes, and a spark of recognition flickered there. "Bret?"_

" _That'd be me," I answered. "Come back with me, son. I need you to come home now."_

" _I . . . I . . . I have to say goodbye to her. You have to let me say goodbye."_

" _Of course. Do what you need to do. I'll be here waiting for you when you're done."_

 _He nodded and got up from his rocker. "I'll be right back."_

When I woke up his eyes were open, and I knew that he'd come home with me. And this time he intended to stay.


	22. Reality Sets In

Chapter 21 – Reality Sets in

I was sitting on my bed and my head hurt. That was nothing unusual, but I looked at my watch. It was almost two o'clock. The wedding was set for four, and I didn't know where the time had gone. The last thing I remembered was going back to my room to put a shirt on, and after that . . . blank.

I had something in my hand and I looked down to see what it was. Evy's ring. At least that's what I thought it was. For some reason it didn't look at all familiar; now I was really anxious. I seemed to remember sitting on the front porch rocking and talking to someone . . . a gentleman I didn't know. Who he was or what he was there for rang no bells with me at all. Well, time to quit fiddlin' around and get ready – to get married.

I got up from the bed and was suddenly dizzy. What in the world was wrong with me? I didn't know, and I didn't have time to figure it all out now. I washed my face off and shaved, then put on a clean shirt, one with ruffles rather than pin tucks in front, and a black and gold vest. Black pants, black boots, and a knee-length black frock coat. A black silk tie finished it off. As I tied the tie, I looked down at the ruffles in the shirt and thought of – my brother, Bret. Why wasn't he here? Why wasn't Pappy? The two most important men in my life, both Mavericks, and neither was present. But I'd just seen Bret – earlier that afternoon. Wait a minute. I hadn't either seen him. Bret was back in Little Bend, and I was here in Las Cruces. Several hundred miles apart.

A wave of nausea swept over me, and I had to grab the dresser to stay upright. Where was Bret? And when had I seen him last? Once again, my mind said 'this afternoon.' I knew that was wrong. But I had seen him recently. Hadn't I?

I slipped Evy's ring in my pocket and stuck my head out the door. Tenora had recruited Clint to help her decorate the place, and they'd done an outstanding job. Guests were starting to arrive; some I knew, and some I recognized from church. I wondered why I wasn't nervous. I'd been through this once before, but it was nothing like this. There were only four people there the first time I got married – and two of them were the bride (Caroline) and the groom (me). "Bart."

I heard someone call my name, but there was no one in the room. It sounded like Bret; there I was with the Bret reference again. I kept coming back to my brother, no matter how far I strayed away from him. He was certainly on my mind. I pulled out my watch and looked at it again; just a little past three-thirty. There was a soft knock on my door and I opened it a crack, just enough to see Evy in her dressing gown. "You're supposed to be getting dressed," I told her.

"Let me in," she pleaded. "Before someone sees me."

I opened the door just a little more and she slipped inside. "Wow, don't you look lovely."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I told her. "Come here, woman." I caught her wrist and pulled her over to me, kissing her hungrily on the mouth.

"Whew!" she exclaimed, mock fanning herself. "I know somebody that's ready for the wedding night."

"You bet I am. I've waited a long time for this." That was so true. It wasn't like my marriage to Caroline at all – this one I wanted, this one I'd remember. I bent down to kiss my almost-bride again, and the room spun in ways I didn't know it could. Before I was sure what was happening, I'd collapsed on the floor. The room was still spinning, and the last thing I remember seeing was Evy's face, full of fright and concern, staring down at me.

XXXXXXXX

I opened my eyes, but it was dark and I couldn't see anything for a few minutes. Slowly a patch of moonlight appeared, and I spotted a head full of short, black curls lying next to me. I was on a bed, but I didn't know where. And I didn't know who it was with me. I wasn't sure who I'd been with when whatever happened had occurred. Absolutely nothing made any sense at this point in time. I was bleary-eyed and fuzzy-headed, and it felt like an entire cotton field was growing inside my mouth. Then the black-haired curls lifted themselves off the bed and looked right at me, and I recognized the person at once. It was my brother, Bret.

A big grin spread across his face, and he whispered, "Brother Bart. Happy to have you back among the living." I had no idea what he was talking about. We'd just arrived, having ridden in all the way from Tucson, and he was sounding like a crazy person. I tried to say something but my tongue clung frantically to the roof of my mouth. Bret scrambled to his feet and moved away from the bed; when he returned he had a big glass of water, which he helped me to drink.

"Where am I?" I managed to croak out.

"In your room, in bed, where you've been for the past eight days," came the unexpected reply. Eight days? I'd been in bed for eight days? What in the world?

"What do you remember?" Bret asked, and I took a minute to answer him.

"Riding in from Tucson. Lots of pain. Then gettin' back on Noble and goin' to . . . "

"Las Cruces?" he asked me.

"Yeah . . . maybe. I don't know. When was that?"

"It wasn't, son. Not really, I mean. That's just where you thought you were. For the last eight days, you've been lyin' in that bed with an infection in your shoulder that damn near killed you. Matter of fact, one time it did kill you."

"Not . . . making . . . sense," I managed to say as I closed my eyes again.

"No you don't," I heard, and felt a gentle shake of my good shoulder. Well, at least nothing hurt as bad as it had when we started out for Texas. I tried to reach back into my memory and pull the trip out into the light, where I could get a good grip on it, but it didn't wanna come. What did I remember? The rain, the mud, the impact of Eamon Garrity's bullet; the shot I'd gotten off that killed him. The sight of Ally running out in the rain, to be with the man she loved – not me. The first couple days on the trail were hard, and then all I remembered was pain. Gradually escalating pain, until it hurt so bad that I could barely sit in the saddle. Anything that happened after that was a blank, just a blur in my mind.

"Do you remember Billy? Or Aiden? Or Valpariso Road?"

I tried to think back, to see if any of that sounded familiar. It didn't. "No."

Bret grabbed my hand and held onto it like I was fixin' to get outta bed and run away. "What about Evy?"

Something stirred in me – like I should know the name. It seemed like it was right on the edge of my consciousness, but before I could wrap my fingers around it, it disappeared. Evy, Evy, Evy. I ran the name over and over again in my mind, but the only things that appeared in my brain were blue ruffles and a gold ring. Blue ruffles? Made no sense at all.

A gold ring with some kind of fancy carvings on it. That was familiar, but I wasn't sure why. I tried the name in my mind again. Evy. Evy. Evelyn. "Evelyn?"

Bret nodded, and even in the dark of night I could see a spark in his eyes. "Evelyn. Do you remember her?"

This time I had no trouble at all. "No. Should I?"

Bret let out a sigh and looked pleased. "No, son. Not at all. Go back to sleep now. I'll be here to explain it when you wake up."

So that's exactly what I did.


	23. Help, I'm Drowning

Chapter 22 – Help, I'm Drowning

I was awake now, wide awake, and I sat for quite a while and watched Bart sleep. For the first time in more than a week I wasn't worried about him waking up; and, quite frankly, I was glad he'd gone to sleep when I suggested it. He'd left me with a lot to think about.

Once before I'd had to make a decision about how much to tell him of what he didn't remember. The difference, this time, was that the things he didn't remember weren't real – they hadn't happened, unlike the almost engagement between him and Millie Ridgeway. And I think I made the wrong choice that time – I didn't tell him that he'd been about to propose marriage to the girl. He was the one that paid the price for that decision later on when he finally did remember his love for her – and it was too late to do anything about it.

I couldn't make the same mistake again. Bart had been through enough, more than enough, and I wasn't about to cause him any more pain if I could help it. But there was a big difference this time. I wasn't even sure exactly what had gone on in his mind while his body fought the infection that was trying to kill him – and almost did. Did he really dream an entire life with all the people he'd talked about? How real were Billy, Aiden, Evy, Sugar, Tenora and Hamilton Rose? Had he actually met them somewhere when we weren't together, or had he constructed them out of his needs and desires for a home and a family? Was my brother truly happy wandering around the country playing poker, or did he want something more? Something that he needed to stay in one place for?

He'd had the chance for that very thing – a wife, kids, a stable existence in one place – more than once. It was taken away from him in Dry Springs, just when he'd realized he wanted it. All the times and places and women that followed – were they just an attempt to recapture his almost life with Caroline Crawford? He wanted to marry Amy Stanhope and take her with him on his travels around the country, and she wouldn't leave the Stanhope Ranch. How close did he get to Domino Hawkins, the beauty who had no choice but to go to work at a parlor house when her husband ran out on her? He'd asked Ailish O'Rourke to marry him, and she'd accepted – but when push came to shove it was Eamon Garrity that had claimed her heart. Those were just the ones I remembered – God only knew how many others there were.

And now, a new one? And worse than all the others, this one wasn't even real. Just how active had his mind been, while his body tried to fight off what was slowly killing him? What had he called her more than once? Evy – Evelyn Sunday. How much time had passed in his head while the days went by, slower and slower? How complex a world had he created? And how madly had he fallen in love with the girl? After all, he had a wedding ring for her.

And yet, when I fell asleep and somehow ended up in his make-believe world, he let me in with no hesitation. With little persuasion he agreed to come back with me, to remain alone among the living, rather than stay with his love in the world he'd created. Did that mean he wasn't really ready to settle down yet? And he was using me as a lifeline to pull him back to the land of the living?

So there it was – lots of different information, no real solutions. The decision was mine to make, and I'd better come up with an answer pretty quickly. Bart wasn't gonna sleep a whole lot longer, and I'd promised him an explanation.


	24. Brothers

Chapter 23 – Brothers

The next time I woke up it was daylight, and the room was full of people. I looked around and saw Bret, Pappy, Uncle Ben, Cousin Beau, and Lily Mae. Then I turned my head slightly and Simon Petry was there. "Well, hello, Mr. Maverick. Nice of you to join us."

That was Simon, and I looked back at my family. Every single one of them was smiling like I'd just done something wonderful by opening my eyes. Who knows, maybe I had. If what Bret had told me earlier was true, they'd been watching me sleep (or whatever it was) for quite a while.

Pappy moved to the chair next to my bed and grabbed my hand, like he was trying to prevent me from going somewhere. "You scared me to death, son." I almost chuckled. Pappy hadn't called me son since I was about fifteen years old. Usually it was Bret who used the term, much the same way I called him 'Pappy.'

"Sorry," I whispered. "What did I do?"

Simon answered that one. "You died, Bart. You honest to God died."

"Somebody threw me back." A whisper was about all I could manage right now.

"Couldn't figure out what to do with you," Bret grinned at me.

"Alright, I need five minutes with the patient," Simon announced. "Everybody out." Bret looked at him hopefully, but Simon pronounced, "Everybody." My brother followed everyone else, reluctantly.

"Simon."

"Yes, Bart?"

"What happened?"

"All of it?"

"All that you know." I started coughing and Simon brought a glass of water over, which I drank most of.

"You and Bret got back here over a week ago. From what they told me, you practically fell off that gelding of yours when you arrived. They got you inside and Bret rode to town for me."

He stopped for a minute, and I knew that wasn't all there was. "And?"

The good doctor sighed. "That shoulder was infected, and it was bad. I thought it was blood poisoning at first. If you'd had it anywhere but the shoulder, I might have amputated. But I couldn't there."

That was truly frightening. How many one-armed poker players do you know? "And?"

"We just had to ride it out, and hope for the best. You had chills, then an awful fever that wouldn't let go. You were . . . let's just say you weren't with us most of the time. Then yesterday . . . "

This time, I waited. I could see that Doc was upset, and I wasn't gonna push. "Yesterday everything just stopped. I was here, and you quit breathing. Your heart stopped. There was no pulse. You were dead, Bart. Stone-cold dead."

"What did you do?"

"Me? Nothing. There was nothing I could do. Beauregard collapsed. Beau fainted. Ben held onto Lily Mae for dear life."

"Bret?"

"Your brother . . . "

"Yes?"

"Your brother grabbed you and held you, and begged you to come back. Until you did."

Something was nagging me, something else that had happened. But I couldn't put my finger on it. "That's . . . all?"

"Isn't that enough? There was no reason for you to start breathing again. No reason for your heart to start beating. Your body was worn out; it had given up. You didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. But you did, because Bret willed you back. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been here."

"Simon?"

"Yes, Bart?"

"Thanks."

It was later that afternoon before Bret and I were alone again. I was almost ready to fall back asleep before I remembered what I'd been trying to grab onto earlier. "Brother Bret?"

"Yes, sir."

"Remember those names you asked me about?"

"Yep."

"Who are they?"

"Just some people you mentioned while you were sick. Maybe they're people you met last time you were in Las Cruces."

"I haven't been there since the War, Bret."

He shook his head, and I closed my eyes. "I don't know, son. I really don't know."

I was too tired to argue. I drifted back to sleep, thankful that I had a brother like Bret.

The End


End file.
